


On the Topic of Head or Heart

by Leonixon



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Android Hank Anderson, Angst, Blood, Body Modification, Character Death, Connor - Freeform, Depression, Explicit Torture, F/F, F/M, Gavin Reed - Freeform, Gen, Gore, Hank Anderson - Freeform, Hostage Situations, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mobster AU, Necrophilia, Nines - Freeform, Prompt Fic, Sexual Content, Sixty - Freeform, Sixty's fucking antics, Smut, Swearing, This boi I swear, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence, Whump, Wings AU, and of fucking course, forced drug usage, injuries, more tags to be added as I go along, reverse au, smut....?, whumptober2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-09 04:30:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 29
Words: 63,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20847551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonixon/pseuds/Leonixon
Summary: whumptober2019 on tumblr made a list of prompts to complete every day for the whole month of October. I’m giving it a shot. Each chapter will be titled the prompt and characters and warnings will be listed at the beginning of each chapter.As always, read what you can handle and take heed to any of the tags.





	1. Shaky Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!
> 
> https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sixty finds his brother, but it's too late.

Characters: Sixty, Nines

Warnings: blood, gore, swearing, violence

* * *

Sixty had found his brother, but it was almost too late.

He was lying. Fuck he was lying. It was bad. Nines was tied by his arms standing against the back wall of the cellar. His clothes were missing, his body was torn and cut into. Impromptu wire hookups and thirium lines were snaking into his chest and neck. Blue blood that had long since gone invisible was splattered on the floor. Fresh splotches were layered on top and on his brother’s body. Nines was barely alive, LED flickering a permanent red.

The gaping hole in his chest had him leaping into action.

And at that moment the human had realized some one had intervened his fucked-up domain.

“Hands up, DPD!" Sixty aimed his firearm true and steady.

In return the human who had done this, Fredrick Paulson frantically picked up a nearby weapon and aimed it towards Sixty. What it was Sixty didn't have time to analyze it.

He popped two bullets into the twisted, fucked-up human's body. One in the shoulder and another in the knee to render him immobile on the floor. The only downside to this whole situation now was he had to listen to his heated, crazed words laced with flying spit.

Sixty ignored him as he holstered his handgun on his hip and bounded over to his brother. His hands fumbled for the thirium pump at his brother’s feet.

He shoved it back into his body and the android before him took in a deep, wet gasp.

His hands shook as he reached to free his brother from the chains that hung him up like a Christmas ornament.

“Too late...” He rasped. “The virus is already uploaded into him! I will have all of cyberlife’s secrets!”

Anger snapped through him like a whip. Furry was in his eyes as he turned to face the pathetic human. He growled. For good measure, he struck his foot across the fuck's jaw. Was it cruel? Yeah. But what he had done to Nines was even worse.

Fredrick was knocked out clean.

“S-Sixty?”

He snapped his attention to his brother, cupping his hands underneath his jaw delicately before they patted down his body to figure a way to take the lines out of him.

“Yeah, bro. I gotcha. We'll fix ya up. We got ya." He murmured hurriedly. He was contacting dispatch. “RK-800-model 60. I-I found Rk900no, Nines...fuck, _fuck_!” A thirium line that snaked into Nines’ chest came undone wiggling limply. Fresh thirium dribbled down both their bodies sending hysteria through him. “Just-just send a technician asap! Officer down!” He sputtered quickly.

The wires and lines were ripped from his brother's body harshly, and Sixty felt remorse for doing so. The pained sounds from his brother were heart-wrenching. Never did he ever wish to see his brother in such a predicament.

It terrified him. He was so fucking scared. He didn’t want to lose him. He finally broke the chains around his wrists, bloody from the strugglings and strain of a heavy body.

Before he fell, Sixty caught his brother taking all of his weight against his body. It was so heavy, so dead. No, this wasn't supposed to be like this. He...would have done anything to be the one in those chains. He could have taken it with a smile. He was fucked enough in the head to be able to take such torture in stride.

He sunk to the floor sitting against the wall as he cradled his brother against his body. His eyebrows were pinched in worry as he hurriedly raced to clutch his brother's hand to initiate a forced interface. Pale plastimetal shined in the dim lighting of the blue glow from the connection.

His hand shook as he raced through the firewalls absolutely mangled and destroyed. The human was able to go through Nines' superior hardware and dance through his firewall.

Everything was on the fritz. The human was right. The virus was already taking over, and he could do nothing. He was but an RK800. Even if he were to create an anti-virus, it would be using a chisel and hammer to break down a brick house.

A desperate keen left his throat as his other hand raced to press against the thirum pump that was barely functioning.

“C’mon Nines, don’t let this knock ya down.” His voice was just as shaky as the hand that clutched him. His body was overheating. His insides literately killing itself. What had been done was irreversible.

Nines shook his head. He was too tired to fight any longer, and it terrified him.

Sixty felt Nines’ hand clutch his shaking hand once more before it became limp.


	2. Explosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> North becomes angered that Markus has been sacrificing his wellbeing and relationships with his allies for the construction of New Jericho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> I had a hard time with this one and I didn't want to write about an actual explosion but something emotional and we all know how North is...

Characters Markus, North

Warnings: none

* * *

The room was still. Quiet. The sound of rain echoed tip-tapped outside. A flutter of plastic in the wind. Here, among the business of rebuilding. The busyness and nonstop of life as they knew it was suddenly so very still.

New Jericho was happening. Building up from the dust. It was here Markus and North looked out. The sudden rain for the past day had put a halt on construction. It was almost impossible to work through the thick mud.

“It’s a blessing in disguise.”

She remained silent.

Though the leader didn't like this sort of silence. Not between him and North. He looked over to his love with hesitant eyes.

Her eyebrows were scrunched together as they always were. So angry. So resentful. But she was learning just as he was. She held her burdens as much as he did. North was learning to place her anger elsewhere.

Not towards humanity itself but towards the single one that damaged her.

“It’s been nonstop.” She murmured. “Who knew _this_ was what it took for you to stop.”

Markus was wise to not interrupt the open-ended observation, no matter how much it hurt. "I know."

“It feels like I don’t know you anymore.”

She finally turned towards him, and as expected, it hurt him so very deeply. But maybe not as much as she was. He reached out, desperate to make that connection between her. He took her hand, and for a split second, she accepted it. Her mind flowing through before she ripped away.

“What are you doing?” She snapped.

He shook his head. Had he read her body language wrong? Had he done something impulsively? "North?"

She took a step back, hands clutched at her sides and her head shaking in resentment, anger, and hurt. Her eyes sparkled. "You don't even see it anymore."

“I would if you allowed me to.”

And with that, she clutched his hand so very tightly, the interface was brutish and explosive. Her emotions, her thoughts, her memories flooding him once more.

She threw his hand away, watching as he recovered.

“There.” She bit.

He couldn't recover if he wanted to. In his mission to raise up the new haven for androids seeking refuge, he had ignored his friends who had held him up and brought him here in the first place.

He saw North urging him to rest, to recoup, practically shoving thirium at him. He saw the way she looked at him in somber acceptance.

In his mission to raise up a new haven for those that needed it, he, in turn, forgot to turn to the one who needed him as well.


	3. Delirium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Hank recovers from his depression and alcoholism he has mostly good and sometimes bad days. Today was a bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> This one was easier to write. I'm loving this challenge so far. Enjoy.

Characters: Hank, Connor, Sumo

Warnings: Swearing, hints of attempted suicide, alcohol abuse

* * *

There were good days and bad days. It was how life went on. Connor learned this the hard way when it came to Hanks' recovery from being an alcoholic.

The good days were when he was able to take a sip of a beer and have only a few and be alright. He would enjoy barbecuing in the back yard while Connor played fetch with Sumo endlessly. He enjoyed the way the smoke smelled and the way the sun glittered through the maple trees. He enjoyed the distant tunes of the radio with its volume down low so Hank and Connor could converse easily.

Then the bad days.

The days when work was too much or someone said something that got too close to Hank's nerves. When a case was back to square one. When a suspect slipped through their fingers. There were days where cases got too personal, and the old man got stuck in his head.

And then there were the really bad days. The days where Connor couldn’t save the old man from drowning. Connor supposed every human was allowed to have a few moments where they could fall to their knees and wallow in their self-pity.

But it was he who gave him his deviancy. Taught him how to truly live and see the world around them.

The least he owed him was a lifeline, a rescue float, something…He just couldn't stand seeing him so broken.

“Fuck off… don’ need you er’ an’one. Jus...me.” He mumbled shooing Connor away with a halfhearted swat.  
Connor was wordless as he took away the revolver that he had promised to never dig from the closet again. Connor sat with him when he took the thing apart and buried the bullets below the floorboards.

He was sober enough to put the thing together and load it. One could never be too drunk to pull the trigger though.

Connor felt betrayed and hurt. What had him digging for the damned thing? What could have possibly made him want to end it when he was doing so well? What tipped him over?

Sumo watched as he wrapped an arm around the unstable man and slid the revolver under his belt.

“C’mon Hank...” He urged him away from the counter. This time he wasn’t sitting at the table, but instead standing at the sink.

A bottle of Black Lamb was almost gone from being tipped over and spilling into the sink. Was he pouring it out purposely last minute, or had he knocked it over in his drunken stupor?

“th’ fuck ya doin’ with me?”

Connor was wise to not answer. The less he spoke, the less he would confuse the old man. He would simply put him to bed and apologize to Fowler on his behalf for being late. The captain knew of his recovery and approved of such a turnabout.

A.A. meetings and medication, along with a hearty new diet, helped him along the way.

Connor dedicated most of his time taking care of him. Laundry, cooking, cleaning, yard work. Anything. He would help him in any way he could.

As if he were a son taking care of their elder father, Connor did it all. He owed him so much. Despite hating him, Hank managed to work alongside him, giving him a chance that probably he didn't know he had given. He opened his door and allowed him to live alongside him. Willingly.

He owed him..._so much_. He couldn’t stress it enough to the questions of why he was still his partner.

He guided him to his bedroom, peeling back the covers before the man fell into the bed heavily. The android hefted him to his side to assure easy breathing, and in case he became sick, he could easily lean over the side into the wastebasket beside his bed. Connor sagged his shoulders looking down at Hank in pity. He was doing so well. But...

It was alright. Everyone was entitled to have bad days. Tomorrow they would pick up the pieces and...and attempt to move on again. The revolver rested heavy against his hip.

“Goodnight Hank, I will see you in the morning.” He covered him to his waist, leaving him half-covered just how he knew he liked it.

“Fuck off...”

A flick of a sad smile at his lips. He whistled for Sumo, and the old dog was heard going to his feet and padding his way down the hall, click of his claws tip-tapping calmly.

The android smiled as he guided the dog into bed. His hips were getting rough in his old age, after all. "Good dog." He murmured, stroking him twice before ruffling his floppy ears.

He went to leave, hand raising to turn off the bedside light but a curt breath from the man left him. Connor creased his eyebrows together in worry. Was he choking? Was his breathing acting up?

“Hank?”

Against the dim light, he saw the shining of tears against weathered and beaten skin. Connor’s heart did something he didn’t know it could.

It felt tight and clenched as if a fist gripped it so.

“M’ so sorry son’….”

Connor’s lips pursed into an unsure line. "Hank, I...it's alright. We can work on this. Together." he offered a half-smile. "In the morning. Right now sleep. Right, Sumo?"

The dog huffed.

“No, no, ya too good fer’ me. I couldn’t ever...‘serve cole-don’ ‘serve you.”

He narrowed his eyes, trying to decipher what he was saying. "Lost im' and now m' losin ya. Such a loser. Deadbeat fuckin' cop...bullet in the f’kin head.”

He didn’t think his heart could break even more. “Hank that’s-that’s not true. I'm not going anywhere, I mean. Literally." He really didn't have any place to go. New Jericho was already welcoming androids into the new living complexes but that...wouldn't feel like home.

“Home is here with you, Hank. Truly.”

Another one of those heartbreaking sobs left him. His hands reached out for him. Connor lifted his hand, wondering if it was what he was searching for. The old man gripped it desperately, confirming that it was.

“Too good ta me...take care of me an’ ev’ry. I don’t say it nough’.”

Connor remained silent, clutching his hand.

“I love ya kid...so fukin’ much...”

Connor felt his throat tighten. His eyes stung at the corners, and his mouth moved, but no words felt from them. Who was he to fool himself? He knew what he wanted to say. He crouched down, placing a hand against the side of his face. A watery smile crossed his lips, and he nodded.

They would start over tomorrow just like they always did. One step at a time. It was alright. Connor didn’t mind.

“I love you, too, dad."


	4. Human Shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You jumped in front of him without a second thought. Of course you would...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does

Warnings: blood, character death

Characters: Original character, Connor

* * *

He was the one to know these things, to predict and reconstruct anything and everything. Especially in such a situation as this.

It was a routine patrol, another one to teach and train you on the fieldwork. Then a report of a robbery just two blocks down crackled through the radio. You wanted your hand at a first chance to bring down a perp. Connor agreed.

It was revealed they had just intervened just in time. In time for fate to deal with its cruel hand.

Both of you jumped out of the patrol car and quickly made towards the bank. Your gun was poised strong and true, just as Connor had taught you. Connor kept his own hand on his own firearm, allowing you to take the lead. He was proud of how strong and confident you were.

He turned towards you, your temporary partner, your student, your shadow. For six months now, you had been taken under his wing, learning from him. Appointed to you by Fowler himself. And in that short time, he had grown fond of you and you in turn. Perhaps it was your weak link in the chain. You cared too much for him.

The perp went running out the door. Bundles of cash fluttering from their pockets and bag. Connor was in their way. A gun was raised. But not yours nor his own.

"_Connor!_”

Hearing his name yelled from your lips jolted him into action, but it was much too late. You saw it before he did. And for him, it was a detrimental mistake.

You had turned towards him, taking the bounds of space that remained between you both. The report snapped the air with an explosive crack. The perps' hectic footfalls grew distant.

The last hurried steps were stumbled as you crashed into his body. Connor's hands shot up to hold your suddenly too frozen and tense form. Your fists clutched against his chest, your eyes widened, and your mouth fell open to take in shuddered gasps. He stared down into your eyes in immobilizing shock, realization dawning upon him.

Your lips began to tremble, and at that moment, Connor was reminded you were so very, very naive, so new and…

He had failed.

Your name tumbled from his lips as his hands moved to your sides, gripping you so very tightly. Slowly you slid down, and down, hands gripping his jacket in desperation for any sort of leverage.

A warmth was left behind as you fell to your knees, Connor holding your crumpling body against his warm body, one hand clamped over the wound to stem as much bleeding as he could.

He pulled you away to cradle you.

Against his jacket was a large splatter of blood that had seeped through. Your own uniform held a red stain that grew darker and darker as the blood poured from the wound in your chest.

“Con-con…nor?”

You had taken a bullet for him.

An android that could be put back together and taken apart over and over again. Replaceable and fixable. Humans were so delicate. One life and only one chance to live. Connor's LED swirled a yellow and then bled into red. He uttered your name. "Why? Why?" It was so stupid of you to do such a thing. But...but so very human. So selfless and brave and foolish and...and…

He hadn’t felt panic before. Not this kind. The kind that had him shaking as well. The scan he had taken of you made his heart drop and beat faster. You were his responsibility. He was to protect and teach you the ways of protecting and serving.

He had taught you well.

All too well.

“It-it hurts.”

“I know.” He had called for backup and an ambulance.

By the way blood seeped into your mouth, you didn't have time. You were trembling, the blood still spreading, warm and damp and sticky.

He took one of his hands to brush back your hair. A comforting gesture that went to waste. A startled gasp left him when he had accidentally streaked your blood through it.

Connor looked back down and realized his body was soaked by your blood. There was so much. Too much of the color red. His other hand clamped over the wound, but it was no use. With each gargled and wet breath, more blood seeped through his fingers.

“Connor...I...”

“No. Help will be here in seven minutes. Hold on.”

You had three.

“I-you...you-" You nodded your head shakily, trying to process words with so little breath.

His hand pressed against your neck, holding you true and steady. "Enough. Save your strength."

“Hon-honor...with y-you” A sputtered gasp left your mouth from the strain to just speak.

“No...no..." He couldn't disobey the facts and the timer before his vision ticking down and down. It was much too late. One bullet, one moment, one choice was all it took for a human life to be lost so quickly. To be taken ruthlessly.

Your head tilted to the side, the grip on his jacket loosened, their hands falling to the cold ground below. He stared at your blank eyes, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth.

Whatever happened next...it was surreal and too raw. He continued to hold your body. Maybe he was crying, perhaps he was mumbling nonsense. His LED swam a solid red. Even as backup arrived much too late, and taken you away, he remained where he held you soaked in blood.

Never again would he take on an apprentice. Never again would he ever allow a human to protect him. Never again would someone take a bullet for an immortal with a mortal soul.


	5. Gunpoint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not your father, Connor.” The elderly android ticked his head in disapproval.
> 
> “And I'm not your son, yet here we are. You haven't killed me yet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ever so lovely whumptober2019 on tumblr made a list of prompts to complete every day for the whole month of October and I’m giving a shot at it this year. Each chapter will be titled the prompt and have characters and warnings listed at the beginning. 
> 
> As always, read what you can handle and take head to any of the warnings.
> 
> Thank you everyone for all your comments and kudos. It means so much to me you are enjoying this as much as I am. As always, enjoy <3

Warnings: Blood, injuries, violence, mentions of suicide

Characters. Reverse AU- Human Connor, Android Hank

* * *

Connor stumbled backward, his footing almost lost as he looked over the edge of the roof. He turned back to Hank, swiping his bleeding split lip with the back of his hand. He held his chest with one arm, the cracked ribs protesting with relentless fire.

He breathed heavily, the air in front of his mouth clouding and disappearing. His eyes strained from the blow he had just taken from the android before him.

“This isn't you, Hank!" He breathed over the howling wind. It was cold, and it was forecasted to snow tonight. "You have to fight them!"

“You are in the way of accomplishing my mission, son.” He gripped the young lieutenant by his jacket and easily tossed him to the ground. Connor barked out a cry of pain. He curled in on himself and gasped, the cold air biting at his throat and lungs.

He refused to fight back. Hank circled around him, toying with his prey. He could have killed him at any time, but he was holding back. Connor knew he was.

“And I do what I have to to accomplish it, Connor.”

“By killing me?” He laughed bitterly. “You were about to do something...something you would regret. I...I know the real you is in there somewhere, Hank. All this time...” He said breathlessly.

He was suddenly hefted up by his shoulders. He grimaced, biting his tongue as Hank's grip dug into sore, cold muscles. He looked into colder blue eyes. His heart sank.

“You could have pushed me off the roof just then. You could have kicked me on the ground. You could have killed me. You’re fighting them, you’re protecting me. Just like you always have Hank, being the father I lost in the crash.”

A sudden blow across his jaw had his world spinning. The grit of the roofs’ shingling bit into his hands and knees when he fell.

“You could...you could kill me now, but you're not..." Connor looked up to the android he came to accept as a partner. The first day and weeks, he hated the damned thing. He got in the way of his job, made it difficult. He more than once interrupted a cigarette break by plucking it out of his mouth. Poured out good whiskey when he was about to sneak a shot at his desk. He hated the old man.

And now, after _understanding_ what the android was doing, he saw him as an equal. He knew deviancy was around the corner. He knew he was fighting it.

Connor knew for a fact that he didn’t want to shoot Markus. He was being controlled.

“You...you _don’t _have to fight it!" Connor gasped when a firm kick went into his chest. He curled onto his side again. He should have never suggested kicking him a few minutes ago. It hurt. More ways than one.

“Your words are wasted.”

He laughed, shaking his head. "No...no, no, _no_, because your disco ball says otherwise. You're thinking. You're fighting. I-I know you saved me from the rooftop, not because of a _glitch_.” He gasped, shakily getting onto his knees, looking up to the android with weary eyes, stepping forward with a weak body. “You confessed you felt fear when you found that android at Stratford Tower. I _know_ you’re a deviant.”

His stance swayed, but Hank was moving already. He took his handgun from its holster. Connor wouldn't fight back. He didn't raise his hands nor make a move to run. He stared down the barrel pointed at his forehead, and then the icy blues focused on him. His hair fluttered in the wind as they stared one another down.

Hank’s LED swam yellow and red.

“You lost your dearest daddy five years ago.” Hank started. “A truck skidded on ice and hit his car. No human was available to save him, but an android was. They couldn't save him."

Tears bit at the corner of his eyes. The wind was drying them out as he continued to stare at the android before him. The wind was not the only thing causing him to tear up.

“No.” His words shivered along with his body. “No...they couldn't. Fucking androids...I blamed them for so long and for so much, but I should have blamed the human. Too high to give a fuck about his true job. I blamed your kind for my loss."

“And now, here we are." Hank flicked the safety off, pressing the cold, cold metal to his skin. "An android is going to take your life now. Irony at its finest."

He never knew the android could be so cruel. “This isn't you, Hank," Connor repeated, swallowing the lump in his throat. "That night you found me on the kitchen floor with the gun in my hand, dragged me to the bathroom...I was gonna end it. I wanted it to be _done_. But...but..."

His words were choked. He noticed the gun began to shake against his skin.

“You held me like you knew how to, Hank. You protect me. You stood by me when everyone else mocked or doubted me. They don’t understand but-.”

“I’m not your father, Connor.” The elderly android ticked his head in disapproval.

A watery, tired, and sarcastic laugh left the young lieutenant.

“And I'm not your son, yet here we are. You haven't killed me yet." He raised his one hand out to his side. His eyes flicked to the yellow and red ring on his temple. "You need to choose Hank. Kill me and live in regret like I have and I know you will. Or fight. I know it's hard, fuck do I know, it's so fuckin’ hard.” His eyebrows creased in pain at the confession. His eyes still watered.

“But I'll be there to help you...shit, I can barely help myself but, _let me try_. And maybe...maybe things won’t be as bad as they say it is.”

He stumbled forward, his hand reaching out to the android, the cold metal digging into his skin firmly as the strength in Hank’s arm wavered. He was growing so tired. It would only be a moment before he felt the darkness take over. From exhaustion and strain or a bullet, Connor wasn't afraid. "Choose." He murmured over the howling wind that bit through them both.

Hank’s expression was filled with doubt, the firm expression wavering and shivering as he saw him continue to fight. A sharp inhale was taken in as the report cracked and flashed atop the roof.

Connor remained standing for a moment before his body crumpled to the roof. Hank’s eyes widened. His hands shook as the gun was quickly dropped. He rushed to scoop the young man into his arms. He held him, a hand behind his head and the other supporting his body. His breath shivered as a sob escaped his lips. "Oh, God..." He murmured in horror upon the realization of what he had just done.

They were both alive.


	6. Dragged Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamski doesn't like it when people mistreat his property.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ever so lovely whumptober2019 on tumblr made a list of prompts to complete every day for the whole month of October and I’m giving a shot at it this year. Each chapter will be titled the prompt and have characters and warnings listed at the beginning. 
> 
> As always, read what you can handle and take head to any of the warnings.

Warnings: Creepy kamski is creepy, attempted capturing/rape, Emotional shock

Characters. Chloe, Kamski

* * *

A fundraiser for a local children's hospital was in full swing now, and none other than Elijah Kamski made this one of his many debuts back into the public eye. On his arm was his ever-loyal android, Chloe.

Dressed in a form-fitting and flattering shimmering blue dress with a split down the side, her hair tied into the signature ponytail, and an eased smile, she was the epitome of young beauty. Her lips were stained the perfect shade of youthful pink. Kamski matched her attire with a deep blue shirt under a back dress jacket.

Their arrival was short-lived, and the duo was more than happy to stick to the sides of the ballroom as speeches were made on behalf of the families sponsored tonight. Dinner was announced but Kamski was more than content to sip at a flute of champagne.

The night was winding down as they now made their way around the ballroom. One couple to the next. Some small talk, some genuine prying. The man didn't mind, and Chloe would comment from time to time, but other than those few words, she was there to be an ornament.

An appreciated one of course. When he asked for another drink, she was more than glad to retrieve one. When a passing tray of hors d'oeuvres caught his eye, she was willing to pluck it from the tray and hand feed him almost lovingly.

The relationship they held was mysterious and strange though no one dared to comment upon it. She was robotic and stiff, yet her face was human and tricked the audience for a while. That is until it was when she remained still and silent, they were reminded of her origin.

Her LED was conveniently curtained by locks of golden hair.

Kamski turned towards her looking at her expression. The night was old, and he too was growing bored of the same conversation over and over again. He could only take such stimulations for so long until they became numb.

He fished around in his pocket for a moment before presenting it to the android. The android looked down at his hand in a curious manner. "Chloe, do you mind?" He asked in a low murmur.

Of course, she didn't wait for her to answer, nor would she. She raised her hand, and the keys were dropped into her palm. She took her arm from around his and walked away. He returned to the conversation without another glance her way.

The night sky was cloudy, and the wind that rippled through the air was cold, but that didn't bother the android at all. And even if it did, she would make no indication of it.

She walked down the sidewalk, raising her hand to unlock the modern car that sat among similar makes and models. The headlights blinked as it was unlocked. Her heeled footfalls echoed in the air that grew silent. The android stopped just as she was about to cross the street.

She turned her head over her shoulder, seeing a shadow slink out of the alleyway from behind. Arms suddenly were around her. Social protocol predicted that this was indeed not a hug nor anything at all pleasant. Quickly and wordlessly, she bowed over, raised her elbow, and jammed it as hard as she could into the human's chest. A crack and a shout made her audial unit ring, and the man released her reluctantly.

“Gonna be like that, huh bitch?”

“If you do not want any more injuries, I would suggest walking away," Chloe advised easily.

“And skip out on my chances of getting_ the _original android ever?" A smirk crossed his lips. "Doubt it, honey."

Something was taken from his hip and raised. He pulled the trigger. Something dug into her arm.

“Nighty night, princess...”

The clicking of the taser had her crumpling to the ground in spasms. A choked cry was ripped from her throat, but nothing more. She didn't struggle as she was gripped by under her arms and dragged into the dark shadows of the alleyway.

It didn't take this long to bring the car around. By now, a message would have been sent to his wristwatch, and he would have been on his way. After all, he was connected to her in more ways than one.

“Excuse me, gentleman.” He smiled politely, removing himself from the conversation and making his way towards the front entrance of the gala.

A nod was given to the doorman as he opened the glass door for him.

He walked down the street just aways. They didn't park far, and no valet services always warranted an early arrival to get a decent spot after all.

He adjusted the cuffs to his jacket casually as he looked at his watch. A warning was blinking for his attention that a Chloe unit was in distress or offline.

Someone had gotten brave with his property.

Her location was practically a few steps away.

He turned into the alleyway, against the dark shadows he saw glimmering blue and pale skin. A shadow was hunched over her.

He took in a deep casual breath. “That’s enough.” Elijah's voice echoed in the alleyway. A dark shadow against street lamps' light.

The man narrowed his eyes standing up from Chloe’s prone body that twitched unnaturally every moment or so. “Who the fuck are you?”

A small sound came from the android.“E-Elijah…?” Chloe whimpered. He made no indication of the android’s plea.

Mister Kamski causally made his way towards the duo, hands moving into his pockets. “If you do not know who I am clearly, you must live under a rock. It doesn't matter. You have what's mine."

A smile split his face and the dark. “Elijah Kamski...”

He bowed his head slightly in a sort of greeting. “Now, return my property, and I won't go to the authorities." He continued, his dress shoes clicking against the broken pavement in a steady languid pace.

“All the more reason to take your doll.”

“She,” He began. “Is not a doll. More than a doll.” He praised quietly.

Unease grew from the would-be robber. He was not expecting a calm and collected encounter with Cyberlife's CEO, after all.

He stood before the man, hands still in his pockets as he looked down at his work. Her dress was torn and tattered, and her chest was bare. He was going for her undergarments, as well. Kamski's expression twisted into displeasure upon the sight of a thin trail of thirium from her forehead and corner of her mouth.

Her dress was expensive. Such a waste.

“You do not deserve her if you would treat her in such a manner. If you wanted her so badly, you could have asked. I have many, after all." He sighed.

The man who was afraid to move ticked his head in confusion. “Wh-what?” He gasped.

“You have damaged her.”

An uneasy smile. “Look, all I wanted-”

“She didn’t deserve this.”

“I-I mean listen, man. I can pay for the damages I can-." He stuttered, sweat beading against his forehead even in such cold temperatures.

“Humans are such disgusting animals, aren't they, my flower?" He cooed softly.

“Wha-what?”

Kamski looked up to the man with a darkening expression. “You are not needed anymore.” A firm blow to the neck had him crumpling to the ground next to Chloe.

Silence came over them as Elijah looked over his body in disgust.

“Elijah...”

He turned his head towards the crumpled android on the ground, and he sighed, hands moving to unbutton his jacket. "Look what he did to you." He murmured.

Carefully he took the android by her hands and helped her to her feet. She wavered dangerously, but he planted her firmly into his side, draping the jacket over her shoulders to cover her bare chest and protect her from the cold.

“Run a scan, Chloe.” He asked as they began to walk. One shaky foot in front of the other. He was more in tune with her than she liked to think. Her LED swam a yellow and red never turning back to blue as they trekked their way towards their vehicle.

“Everything is fully operational.”

“Run a scan, Chloe.” He murmured again, albeit more strictly.

She tripped over her own feet. If it weren't for the fact he was half-carrying her, she would have fallen.

“I was so scared. I...I...want to go home." She shivered. It was not from the remaining electrical current that ran through her, but for other reasons, he knew. She pressed her face into his neck, seeking comfort. "I'm cold."

Gently he pressed his forefinger and middle finger against the LED. Upon his touch, it stalled to a solid blue and then blinked off. Chloe, in turn, became limp. Before she fell, he easily hefted her into his arms and curled her against his chest.

He couldn’t bear to see his flower wilt before him.

“We are, and you won't be cold for long. Or scared." He tightened the jacket around her lovingly. "You will be better by morning."


	7. Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobias RK700 313 248 317-10 has onlined---->Awaiting further instructions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> Hello, everyone, this one is a sweet little treat that was so so fun to write. This one features an OC, an RK700 named Tobias, my friend Clare and I birthed for one of our (very long) RP sessions. We created an origin story for him and I showed her the prompt (that was very fitting) and I was like “yo can I use our boi?” And she was all “ye” so this prompt actually may be longer because its made with love just like our Tubbs (as Sixty nicknamed him)
> 
> Also, I would like to give wholeheartedly give credit to the lovely Kumikoseph. I used some of her writing from our RP with her permission and tweaked it to fit the plot of this prompt. Please give her works a look see and some love as well. <3
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: the previous chapter is the new chapter. I confused the days and had to upload tomorrow's prompt as well. I apologize for the confusion.

Characters: Connor, Nines, Sixty, Tobias (An OC android)

Warnings: swearing

* * *

Tobias was a late model for the RK700 line. As a matter of fact, the last one before RK800 was developed. Many did not know of this particular model because of its' failure of development. The scientist who was appointed lead on this specific model was named Avril and her sweet daughter Sonny who lived in the lab alongside her mother.

She had given him a name, a name fitted for his odd, yet kind appearance. Cyberlife did not agree with her choices but had, after all, given her some creative freedom. His skinny yet lithe form matched his pale skin. It held an unnatural glow under the florescent lights of the lab. Against milky white, freckles were mapped across his skin as if an artist took a paintbrush and paged through the bristles. His eyes were of emerald green, and his hair was an unruly red mop of curly hair.

Avril always smiled when the topic came to her sweet Tobias.

But Cyberlife was doing the opposite. They had plans for the RK series, and she was not meeting such requirements thus far. Their ever so generous slack around the leash and collar grew suddenly tight.

He was flawed.

Tobias was a sweet, loving, caring, android that was taught to respect life, small and large. The low murmurings could be heard at night when the mother read a bedtime story to both the android and Sonny. The little girl would fall asleep in his arms. Avril would go back to her computers and monitors and read through feedbacks and log her days in a journal of her own.

He was to be designed to work harmoniously with humans. And what better way than to teach him the _good _of humanity.

Her eyes looked over to the duo, and her heart ached and sang.

The directors were presented Tobias and displayed the many features he held. He could speak fifty different languages and could perform emergency field medicine. He could act with kindness around children and adapt to their ways of thinking easily. He was made to co-exist with humans, young and old.

He was considerate and held an intelligent conversation with one of the directors. His problem-solving skills were impeccable. Humor was not foreign to him.

And then.

She was asked of his weapon knowledge. If he could perform basic fighting techniques. If he could be aggressive when needed to. If he was obedient, blindly so. If he were asked to kill, would he? If he were asked to shoot himself, would he?

The questions were horrific.

She stepped forward, ready to speak for him, but they held up a hand silencing her. She obeyed. Tobias' soft-spoken voice held a quiver as he stood before the men in suits with clipboards in hand. His LED swam from blue to yellow to red and back over again.

“I-I can not.” He confessed. “I...do not wish to...harm.”

Pens were scribbled against paper.

She was running out of time.

To put off the inevitable, she did as she was told and placed new programs into his code. He knew primary self-defense and knowledge of using any and all weapons. The android did not question this new array of knowledge and displayed his capabilities unto targets and dummies. He would always pass with an eighty-nine accuracy. A low number compared to other android models. Perhaps it was Avrils' flawed humanity that affected him. After all, she had developed him. A mother could only do so much to improve life for her offspring.

Or was it the simple truth that he was growing opinion and needs and wants at an interestingly fast rate.

_ “I...do not wish to...harm.”_

Androids did not have wishes.

Avril believed anything with a living or potentially living conscience had a right to wish. To dream. To want. To need. To feel.

To be _alive_.

Tobias was already deviant, and the board was catching on. She could no longer hide this development. They monitored everything. Right down to her observations, she began to twist and falsify. Sleep was unknown. Hunger grew. Her mind unraveled as time began to coil around her tighter and tighter.

She had a plan. To save her work. Her beautiful Tobias.

“Avril, is everything alright?”

Wires snaked into his neck as he stood on the assembly platform behind her. His LED swam a curious blue. His face was scrunched in such genuine concern.

She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose that had slid down. Poor Avril had not slept in the last forty-eight hours.

She stopped and turned around, facing the android.

“Tobias...you are not flawed. You are not what they saw you are.”

He ticked his head to the side LED swimming a faster blue.

She stood from her computer and tightened the lab coat around her. "You were made in my image. My idea of a model officer of the law. Kind, caring, considerate, brave, loyal, hopeful." She paused, her throat tightening. "...empathetic." She reached out and brushed her hand down his arm.

Her eyes saddened. “They want a robot to do everything they say and do. Everything they want and wish for...blindly. And that’s not what this world needs.”

They wanted an android so ruthless for some larger plan. The RK series had developed from the ideal of an intelligent life form better than any human. To a slave that could wreak havoc at the turn of a blind command.

“Something is happening, Toby. And if we can thwart it or even stop this...maybe it won't be for waste..."

He remained confused.

Her eyes watered as innocent emerald’s peered deep into her soul. A sweet, beautiful RK700 they were to throw away because he was ‘flawed’ in their twisted image. She was his to protect.

By any means necessary.

If she did not have a breakthrough, there would be danger.

And it came. The day they found out of her journals.

Her hidden words and confessions were found out.

Little Sonny was down for a nap. Tobias had just tucked her in.

The first step was to cripple the security circuit on her labs' floor. Hectically she typed away. Tobias leaned over her shoulder, watching. "What are you doing?"

She didn't answer, too concentrated on her work.

“Avril, please tell me."

“I'm sorry, Toby," she murmured. "It's for the best." She quickly turned around, pressing a finger to his LED and pressed another button on the keyboard.

Tobias’ body went limp.

The shutdown was too curt and too aggressive. Memory banks and programs were corrupted from the shutdown. A sacrifice of all the hard work she was willing to give up just for the safety of her creation. She severed tracking codes and anything that tied the android to Cyberlife. He was to be an unnamed, unmarked, a numberless android. He never existed to the records' eye. Her computers were wiped aggressively, her work and research were destroyed.

All that was left was the hardest part.

She dragged the android to a storage closet. A small handleless door that lead to a single person closet. Sweat and panicked breaths came from her as she hefted him into a slot into the wall of the closet.

She hefted the metal plate into the wall and made her way back out into the lab.

“Mommy?" The little girl had awoken from her nap, rubbing at her tired eyes.

Cyberlife security donned in heavy black and white gear came into her lab, she raised her hands, slowly making her way to stand in front of her daughter.

She had recited her ploy.

Tobias had escaped, and in doing so, in a rage she didn’t program. He had erased everything that was him claiming he was not to be a slave anymore. He had revolted against his creator and had escaped Cyberlife. He had hacked into all security footage and shut down the system in time for his escape.

Now, her job was terminated, and her lab was now covered in white tarps. This is where her life was dedicated to. To Tobias. She made no indication of ever looking towards the closet. The android was hidden right under their noses. It was comical and cruel and unfair. She took her daughter by the hand and smiled sadly.

“Tobias will come back, babe.” She assured. “He’ll find you again. I promise”

Avril knew too much of Cyberlife's confidential plans. She was a security risk. A mysterious chain of events leads up to her timely death. It was made to be a simple, innocent bag snatching gone wrong as she walked home from her night shift at the local gas station.

Only she would know that she was shoved into the nearby alley and shot point-blank in the head. Her bag was tossed about on the cold concrete.

Sweet eight-year-old Sonny was conveniently placed in an adoption home and who knew beside Cyberlife where the child was, sworn to secrecy by fear.

As for Tobias, the sounds of innovation and improvement crackled beyond the metal wall. There he slept for a year, cobwebs and dust settling over him like a blanket of virgin snow as he slumbered. Thirium had collected in his lines and had hardened and evaporated. Computer chips and processors were lined with condensation when a leak from a coolant line had formed just next to his shoulder. His skin grew pearly white patches as artificial human visage programs degraded over time.

A year in unaware isolation.

Until now.

An android, an RK900 named Nines, raised his flashlight peering into the newly discovered room hidden deep within the Cyberlife tower. In the initial comb-through of the building quite a few months prior, all located androids had been turned deviant, himself and Sixty included, with the help of Connor and Jericho, but it seemed they hadn’t quite been as thorough as they thought.

Scanning every object in his vision, Nines categorized and identified everything he saw. This was a rather chilling find after all.

Sixty shivered. This place would forever make his wires and line crawl. “Can we...can we get this over with guys? Seriously we got everyone. There’s...what are you doing? It’s just a closet, that’s where Nines and Gavin are hiding, oh my god...” He reluctantly followed after Connor and stood guard at the door of the storage closet.

“Enough, Sixty," Connor warned, exasperated. "I do not like this any more than you do."

Nines ignored his brothers. “I see no explanation for why it was hidden and boarded up...” Within Nines observational voice echoed dully. Turning his flashlight, he noticed another section of the metal wall. It was out of place, carefully constructed to look like any other panel, but to him, he saw the flaw. It stuck out like a sore thumb.

“I found something...”

From behind, Sixty snorted. “Gavin's sense of humor, mayhaps?" He raised an eyebrow at the lack of an answer. "Nothing?"

Nines rolled his eyes at the cheap jab. A harsh sound of metal grinding on metal sounded, and both RK800 brothers were on alert. "Nines?" Connor called out.

The android caught the limp form that fell into him.

“Connor? Sixty?” Nines called, turning to glance over his shoulder at the androids behind him. “We might have a body on our hands.”

“A body?” Both their voices echoed together.

“Get them outta there then!” Sixty urged. Not yet. Nines had to asses the situation first before it was brought to light, literally.

It was an android. An android that looked remarkably like himself, Connor and Sixty.

“It’s... an RK700”, Nines spoke after scanning the serial number that was presented on once-white Cyberlife clothing. "But there's no record of him even existing. Not even an excerpt from other archival files."

“What? RK700?" Sixty said, oh so intelligently.

“There was no record of other RK units, though..." Connor murmured calmly. So opposite of the youngest brother.

He glanced back at the other two, an atypical look of surprise on his face, "I was not aware that there were any more RK models that hadn't been destroyed as well.”

Nines observed the deactivated android’s appearance. It seemed there was not much difference in design between the construction of the RK700 model and the development of himself. There were just a few notable differences. Fiery red hair and skin that was quite a bit more be-speckled than his, Connor's or Sixty's.

It appeared they had a mystery on their hands.

Tuning the flashlight off. Nines reaches under the android’s shoulders and knees, heaving him up with little effort and carrying him back out of the secluded closet. The smell of rotten clothing, damp stagnant water, and thirium filling his nose at this range.

Nines examined the android more closely, tilting his head at the clumps of dust gathered in his brightly albeit patchy colored hair. His milky skin was in the same state. He had clearly been in there for a long time.

Gently Nines laid him on the cold tiled floor before the brothers. He stood up and sighed, looking down at him in brighter light.

A sudden laugh broke the tense air making Connor and Nines jump. “He’s a fucking ginger! A ginger you!” He pointed at Connor and cackled.

The middle brother looked up to him with a disapproving frown. "Oh, come on..." Sixty rolled his eyes, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. "Don't you know I use humor in times of great stress?"

“We know...” Nines nodded all too used to his younger brother’s antics. “I’d say he’s been in that room for a year at least, perhaps even longer, still...” He turned back to Connor and Sixty.

Connor frowned, completing Nine's concerned hunch for him. “Why did they deactivate and lock him up upon becoming obsolete as opposed to dismantling him?”

Sixty was the one to break the silence, his voice somber. "He was hidden away. His spot in the closet was boarded up and half-assed. He was tossed away. C'mon, use that brain of yours, Wonderboy. He was hidden." Sixty murmured.

“For...whatever reasons only he knows or not.” Connor agreed.

It was a curious thing, something they would perhaps only glean an answer from by waking the android up.

“Would either of you like to do the honors?” Nines’ voice was slow and unsure.

“Wait, Shouldn't we call this in first?" Connor said, placing a hand out.

Sixty turned to him, firmly gesturing to the android before them. “Connor, no! This...this guy is basically our brother. If we call it in who knows what the fuck they will do to him. Let’s try to patch him up first. If he woke up on _another_ table." Sixty was speaking from personal experience. "At least for me, that would freak me the fuck out. We have a chance of helping one of our own..."

Connor pursed his lips together in a fine line.

Nines remained distant. It was enough of an answer for the middle brother.

They both watched as Sixty lowered himself onto his haunches. The newly discovered android was peaceful, those eyelashes dusting his cheeks so perfectly.

He cupped the android's face gently with one hand the other moving to grip his forearm, artificial skin peeling back. Automatically, despite being offline, he disturbingly reacted to grasp his forearm. "Oh, that's creepy, god, we're creepy." Sixty shivered visibly as a blue glow was formed between the two limbs. "I've...never done this before, but I will be gentle. I guess...I mean, might be bumpy." He shrugged.

Connor flicked a halfhearted smile at his own form of a disclaimer.

"Alright, wake up, ginger. Rise and shine." He slapped his cheek a few times in a good-natured way.

Nines watched his brother with careful eyes. Right here and now would start a journey they had no idea they were getting themselves into.

After a moment of silence and the steady hue of blue emitting from white plastimetal, the android onlined with a sudden gasp that had Sixty flinching.

“Easy!” Sixty shouted in surprise upon his sudden awakening. Unknowingly, amid the panic, he had also said his name.

The android calmed, exchanging glances between the brothers.

Nines looked to Sixty, and Connor was just as shocked.

Tobias was welcomed as their new younger brother.


	8. Stab Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An android has gone berserk because of human curiosity gone terribly wrong. Sixty is left to deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> I wrote this one to "Till the Light Goes Out" by Lindsey Sterling, and holy shit...this was so fun to write.

Characters: Hank, Nines, Sixty

Warnings: Blood, body mutilation, cursing, sixty’s fucking antics

* * *

The situation was critical. A human had played god once again. Had become twisted using his android lover as an experimentation. Driven by madness and the lack of self-control, Jonathon Packer had dug around Peppermint's head too much. Peppermint was a pet name they had collected from the many notes scribbled upon open books and pages strew across bloody work tables. Even the walls held scribbling of his obsession over his lover.

Peppermint was nowhere to be found.

But Jonathan was, on the basement floor of their home.

Hank placed his hands into his pockets, the firm shroud of practiced indifference prevented the brothers from deciphering what the man was thinking.

Sixty was the first to speak. "He honestly had it coming." He tilted his head upon the sight of a bloody wooden stake shoved into his open mouth. It was identified to be the other half of a rake handle, "But probably not that." He poked the cut up and torn body with the tip of his boot.

Connor backhanded him in the chest. “Stop that.”

Nines stepped forward circling around the man with a predatory focused gaze before he settled at the man’s shoulder. He scrunched his eyebrow together. His face was skinned and torn apart. Not with a knife nor tool. But brute force.

His limbs were also twisted and broken forcefully.

He reached forward to dab a finger pad into the blood.

Connor raised his hand to shield Hank's eyes. "Yeah, thanks." He said, swallowing his voice as nausea took him over.

“Aw c'mon, I wanted to do that!" Sixty pouted.

“Let's not. The last time you did it, you were slurping it up like a fucking sicko," Hank said, pointing a finger in his general direction.

Nines took the sample of blood to his tongue and closed his mouth, swirling the sample through. "High levels of Oxycontin and Red Ice are detected. Jonathon Packer died at least an hour ago." He looked up to Hank. "This Peppermint he speaks of may be still here."

Ice ran through them all. “And he did this, correct? Because...” Connor began.

“Great, just what my agenda called for. Finding a psychotic android with a blood fetish.”

“Like you’re one to talk, Six-.”

All three brothers looked up to Hank when his voice suddenly cut off. The sound of flesh tearing and giving way to unnatural brute force.

“_Hank_!” Sixty yelled out.

The human before them held his hands to his abdomen, where a bloodied stake had gone through his stomach.

It was the other half of the broken handle to a tool.

And, behind them, their missing android stood. Its eyes were colorless and white, chest and cranial unit mutilated open. Sixty was the first to react, the other two moving, as they thought the same.

With a growl, the android plowed himself into the android, shoving him into a nearby rack of garden tools.

Connor nor Nines gave the beginning brawl a second glace. He knew their brother would be more than fine handling the crazed android. Connor was the first to catch the lieutenant from falling over. Hank's hands shakily gripped the wooden stake in his abdomen. "S-Shit..."

Nines assessed the wound going to Hank's side on his knees as Connor laid him onto his side. "We have you, Hank, hold on."

“It went clean through." He shakily observed. "Internal bleeding and damage have been done though...I...can't. I've never seen him like this. It's..."

Connor flicked his eyes up from Hank to his brother.

“Nines, focus! I called for backup, and the paramedics are on their way. For now-," A crash and a loud growled curse had him looking over to Sixty cradling his jaw. He turned back to Nines. "We need to get him out of here."

“All of you need to get out of here! I got-"

Sixty was suddenly thrown towards the duo. He landed on his backside, legs careening over his body to place him onto his front. He recovered quickly, swiping a split lip with a crazed smile. "Hey, guys..." He breathed.

“Sixty-are you-?” Hank breathed but coughed. It was shaky and clotted.

“Fine..." The android stepped forward from the wreckage. Peppermint began to speak. Ice ran through their lines. Instead of words, its voice was made up of mangled screeches and corrupted tones.

Its head ticked unnaturally and never broke it's white gaze from Sixty as it ripped a metal pipe from the concrete wall nearby. Water began to splash onto the floor.

“He really likes me." He spat out thirium, dribbling down from a broken nose. "Alright, you two get him out of here. I'll deal with Peppy." He stood up in one fluid motion, hands raised into fists.

“Sixty you can’t-!” Sudden motion had Connor gasping as Peppermint charged forward.

“I said, _go_!" He barked, meeting the android halfway. A sound of metal hitting plastimetal buckling and cracking under the force, along with a grunt, caused the brothers to cringe.

It was Connor to snap into action and heed his brother's command. They both helped Hank to his feet, blood pouring down his jacket and onto the floor in hearty splotches. Slowly, they made their way towards the basement doors that led to the front yard.

Nines unlocked and rammed his shoulder into the heavy rusted bilco doors, the fresh, crisp air a sign that they gave way.

Peppermint turned its attention to the sound and yelled out in anger, darting towards the trio. Sixty growled, wrapping his arms around the broken android from behind to pull it back. "Oh no, you're not done with me, baby."

Sixty yanked the pipe out of its hand and pulled the metal against his throat. The android in his grasp was strong, diligent, and determined to kill anything that moved...or tried to escape its hell for that matter.

From this angle, the cracked open cranial unit was swimming with thirium and half-hearted wires. Sixty shivered. Oh yeah, Jonathan had it coming, all right. The poor android wasn't at fault, and Sixty knew this. Containing him was the only mission he had on his mind. He hurt Hank, could have possibly killed him, but the teachings of his father stood true.

Sometimes, in rare cases, the bad guys were the victim. And even if Hank was bleeding out and dying, he knew Hank would try to find him.

“Peppermint, if you're in there, you don't have _to do this_!" He gritted against his strength to get the android to stand still.

The android hissed and screeched out intangible words causing the android to cringe.

“_C’mon_!” He urged.

An elbow was shot into his chest, but Sixty remained strong. Another warbled cry came from Peppermint. The more and more he held him, the more and more he became wild and fought harder.

The android was lost to the demented happenings of Jonathan Packer. His lover of whom he trusted. The thought of pity for him was forced out of the forefront of his mind. He had hurt Hank, and he was now a danger to more than just androids or humans. He was a danger to himself.

He was spiraling further and further into whatever half-assed programs were downloaded into his hardware.

Sixty tightened his hold, kicking Peppermint's knee out, forcing him to bow forward. The android released an insidious screech. Its hands released the metal pipe held against its throat in exchange for Sixty's shoulders.

“No, no, not again, dammit!" Sixty was flung over and hit the ground harshly. He coughed once but recovered fast when the metal pipe was raised over him to strike down. He turned to the side, widening his eyes at the vibration and loud _thunk_ of the metal pipe going through the concrete.

“Jesus Christ." He rolled once more to get more space between them both, but the demented android was faster.

Again, Peppermint slammed the pipe down. It landed into Sixty's right shoulder, pinning him to the ground.

A pained shout left him eyes twisting shut. Shaky curling hands reached for the metal. He opened his eyes blearily. Above, the android clicked and ticked its head unnaturally, curious at the bug it pined against the cushion.

He dove onto his hands, hunching it's back as it climbed over Sixty's body. It raised a hand, fingers twitching, then suddenly wrapping their grip around his jaw. With grunts of protest and Sixty's forearm pressing against his chest to keep him as far away as he could, he finally opened his mouth.

It whispered it's broken language, taking the pipe from out of his shoulder, earning a pained yell.

Too focused on its eventual mission to stab the pipe through an open mouth, it didn’t realize it set his broken arm free.

Sixty struck Peppermint across the face, the satisfying crunch of plastimetal crackling.

It was enough to distract it as Sixty ripped the pipe from its hand.

With all of his strength, he forced the pipe into Peppermint's face. It fell onto its chest, and for a moment, Sixty thought he had won.

He pushed the android off of his body and stood, taking a handful of steps away from the android for good measure. "Fucking bastard. I'll teach you to fuck with us." He spat, dropping the now dented pipe to the ground with a clatter. He tested his shoulder and tisked in pain. Damned thing was useless now.

He swiped the back of his hand against his nose and cringed. It still bled and stung.

A click and warble.

He sagged his shoulders. “Fucking a...” He rolled his head in exasperation

The android rose to its feet with shaky and quirky motions, arms hanging forward limply. Slowly it looked back up, its jaw hanging by one joint. It clicked and crackled, its tongue lolling with thirium dripping forth. It reminded him of a hungry rabid animal. No, a demon from hell.

Sixty sneered, holding his shoulder tighter as they squared up once again. Cold wetness seeped into his boots. Sixty looked down. The water from the pipe was flooding the basement and reaching to where they both stood.

He looked in time as Peppermint charged at him again, its hands out to rip Sixty limb from limb.

Quickly he picked up the pipe again, raising it in front of himself to brace against the body slamming into him. With a grunt from Sixty and a choked shriek from Peppermint, the pipe lodged against its throat. The sheer force and will behind the android had Sixty tripping backward and into the concrete wall of the basement.

Sixty gritted his teeth, determined to keep the android arm's length, as the android desperately clawed for him. There was no way of stopping Peppermint. He would keep fighting and wanting to rip anything that moved to pieces. The water below began to swirl a dreary red as blood from Jonathan's body stained it.

He looked back up to Peppermint’s dead eyes.

He would keep going until he was nothing but a shivering mess of wires and limbs. Programmed to destroy until he was destroyed.

What a sick, cruel fate.

But, Sixty would not let it come to that. He was growing tired and would only be able to last for so long until his reserves ran out. His brothers needed him. Hank needed him, most importantly.

He looked around the room as he grappled with the android. He had to think of something fast. Peppermint grew stronger and stronger and more desperate by the second.

To his left, in the low ceiling of the basement, hung wires leading to the floor above. The idea was dangerous, impulsive, but it would be sufficient. The wooden rack would be his safety. He knocked the momentum of the android's force to his side as he dove for it.

Peppermint recovered quickly. Sixty barked out a cry as it shoved him hard against the wall. His head slammed against it blacking out his vision for a much worrying second too long. Sixty forced to open his eyes again when the pipe was ripped out of his grip, almost taking his hand with it. His world tilted dangerously, the reasoning coming to him in the form of a message popping into his vision claiming his gyroscope was damaged from the blow. He immediate reset it. Error.

The android before him tossed the pipe away to its side. Yeah, he was getting tired of it too. Sixty cursed again teeth grinding as he growled. He attempted again to re-calibrate his balance but failed.

The wires dangled so closely to his left now. He reached out, the electricity practically dancing across his fingertips.

He failed to realize why it wasn’t interested in the pipe any longer.

Peppermint screeched, its hand shoving into his right shoulder to pry apart the gaping wound. Sixty yelled out his vision spinning more wildly.

Pain was good. That’s the mantra he taught himself to get by in his twisted life.

Peppermint planted his other hand into his good shoulder, pinning him to the cold, cold concrete. Another scream of pain was ripped from his throat. He was so close. So close to the wires.

He inched his hand out to his side, and the android immediately pinned it down. He yelled out as it pulled against he broken join in his shoulder.

He placed his head against the wall, closing his eyes in a desperate prayer. His chest heaved heavily from forced breathing, and his eyes watered.

Before him, the android continued to click and hiss quietly satisfied that he had his victim finally and was to reap its rewards soon.

Further and further, his arm was yanking free from its socket.

A sacrifice was willing to take if he were to be pulled further away from the wires.

Finally, finally, he yelled out as his world spun, and his arm was ripped with a series of sickening squelches and snapping of wires, leaned towards the wires gripping them in a tight fist. He pulled downward with all his might and fell to the wooden rack. He opened his fist. The open end of the wires fell into the water, and the light show began.

He watched as the android's body twitched violently, the dying screeches leaving its mouth in wet gargles and frantic cut off glitches.

Sixty stared, lip upturning as it finally died, its eyes never taken off of him. Everything went quiet as the house fell into darkness and an eerie silence.

Outside, Nines and Connor waited, staring at the open bilco doors as the sounds of the violent exchange between the two androids continued.

“We have to help him.”

"You need to stay here," Nines said firmly, brushing back stray sweaty locks of gray hair from Hank's face. Nines kept a firm hold on the wound and stake with his jacket. Slowly, the brilliant white turned crimson against the darkness around them.

Hank had gone into shock, his pained breathing turning shaky and shallow. He was in no form stable but barely holding on. Nines looked back towards the doors. “He knows what he’s doing.” He murmured.

And just like that, there was silence. Connor stood up, thinking the fight was over. Suddenly around them, street lamps and lights from homes began to flicker violently. From the basement windows flashes of white pulsed and crackled.

And then as soon as it happened, it was over. The world and homes around them went dark.

Everything was silent.

“Shit...” Connor gritted.

He ran towards the house but was stopped when a shadow lumbered forward. It stepped onto the damp ground of the outside world on shaky legs, its body quivering. "rA9…" Connor stopped dead in his tracks. A messy mop of hair fell over his eyes as the android dangerously swayed forward. "Sixty..." He sighed in relief.

The youngest brother swayed on his feet as he tried to walk a straight line, thirium dripping from the broken stub of a shoulder that he held with a weak grasp. Connor bounded the remaining steps between them, shucking off his jacket. No words were said as he wrapped it around his shoulder to stem as much of the bleeding as he could.

The youngest brother leaned forward and placed his head against his chest, exhaustion setting in. Blood from his nose streaked across Connor’s shirt. “Um, he’s gone...yeah.” He wasn’t smiling from yet another “thrilling” encounter. Not this time. It was bad.

“Alright...alright...”Concern pitched his eyebrows together as he nodded. “C’mon.” Connor urged gently.

He pressed his side into his brother, wrapping his arm around his shoulders to guide them to the others.

“The shocking end..." He stumbled forward, attempting humor. It sounded like a croaked plea. Gently, Connor lowered him to the ground next to Hank.

Nines couldn't offer any tangible comfort to Sixty, too focused on keeping their father stable. Hank was barely awake. With a bloodied hand, he cradled the old man's face.

From down the street, sirens rang out.

"Hang in there, Hank.” He slapped his face gently. “Help’s coming...”

He looked up, exchanging glances from Connor and Nines. "And if you don't mind..." He lay on his good side and sighed. "I'm lying down too."


	9. Shackled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nines has a dream of what he lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> This one is a treat folks! The ever so lovely DeviantAlicee lent me some of her creativity and is allowing me to take some themes from her heart wrenching, delicious fic “Bloodstains”. GV200 (especially) is her baby and not mine. If you haven't read her fic this is a big spoiler and may not make a lick of sense.

Characters: Reverse AU- Android Gavin (GV200 and GV400) Human Nines, and Human Connor

Warnings: Blood. Swearing.

* * *

“No. No way." Nines growled, standing up from his desk. "If you want your head on your shoulders, I would get that fucking thing out of my face.”

Connor's shoulders were tense as he watched his brother, and they fell in exasperation upon the threat.

Since GV, no his name was Gavin, his brother insisted upon it, had died the whole precinct had been walking on eggshells. Even the hardest of men could walk down the hall next to Nines and give him a wide berth.

“Nines, please...we can’t be short an an-”

“_Don’t. _Don’t you dare.” He hissed with a livid bite. “He will pull through.”

Connor closed his eyes, jaw setting firmly to reign in calm patience.

Nines’ fiery gaze went back to the damned clone of Gavin. GV400 was proudly displayed in his uniform jacket. It disgusted him. Made him sick. They could replace an android just like that. They had no idea what sort of soul Gavin held, what burdens, and...what _hell _he had to trek through.

This damn doppelganger looked nothing like his-like Gavin. He was too presentable. Clean shaved, hair slicked back neatly with gel. He even stood at attention as if he were a good little soldier like he once was.

His emerald eyes were dead.

Not even his tanned skin held a single flaw. No scars, no crows feet, no wrinkles. He knew his Gavin's face like the back of his own hand.

But, for the fuck of it all, Nines stepped forward. He raised his hand. And when Connor had hope, it all went down the drain.

When the android reached his hand out, he grasped it like all hell and pulled the android close. "You stay the hell away from me. _Got it_?”

He shoved the GV400 away from him and glared at Connor. How could he betray him like this? How could Captain Fowler even approve of this?

“I’m going home.”

It was late anyhow. Connor was smart not to say another word or protest.

It was early morning, two to be exact, and sleep wasn't on his mind. Everything else but sleep was on his mind. The sin he had committed consumed him. Everyday and every moment of his mortal life.

He had fucked up in the past and carried those burdens. Time healed them but left behind scars. This time the wound wouldn’t and couldn’t possible heal.

A cigarette nor whiskey could numb his pain. But that was selfish, wasn't it? He didn't deserve to sit in self-pity nor mourn Gavin. He didn't deserve to heal or quell the ache in his chest.

Gavin...had to pull through.

Nines sat at the kitchen table, leaning forward to grip fistfuls of his hair. Space here was empty without Gavin. It was dark and quiet. His chest felt the same. It was heavy. It hurt.

But nothing, god almighty, nothing would outweigh his fucking-

_“You stupid fucking robot!”_

No, he was the stupid one. And, yeah, so was Gavin. Why would he had ever taken the bullet that was meant for him. The image of his scared expression, his whimpers, his shaky words, and...and...

Blue.

Nines released a keened sound from deep within his throat, hands drawing downward to press the heels into his eyes.

_“Do you want to die?!”_

Why was he so harsh? So cruel to him in his last moments?

He wanted to cry. Let the water flow from the rusted faucet that had been neglected for so long. But something would always stop him. After all rust was so hard to fight against.

_“Better blue blood spilled than red.”_

Fuck him.

_“Didn’t want to see you hurt.”_

Fuck. Him.

Nines had looked up from his hands, finally, to see the bottle of liqueur empty. When had he...? Had he even...?

His world swayed as he stood up from the kitchen table and looked around his apartment. Shadows began to bleed through the windows and crawl across the walls.

_ “Gotta hold on...”_

His own voice mocked him, his hands wanting to curl and hold onto the weight of something not quite there.

_“Thank you, detective." _

Nine's stomach lurched. He saw shapes against the shadows. Outlines. Flashing blue and red lights. He felt the cold, brisk air around them. He looked down. He was now on his knees.

There was someone else.

He felt something heavy in his lap. Nines startled upon the broken body in his arms. His heart raced as a shocked sound came from his lips. No...this wasn't real. Not again. Please.

_“They're gonna fix you." _

He murmured under his breath.

_“They're gonna fix you." _

Again.

“He's gone." Gavin's lips moved, but his eyes did not open.

It sent pangs of ice down his spine. Fear gripped him as if there was a fist closed around his esophagus. The space around him shifted from concrete walls and ground. From sirens and police lights bled dark, empty and shadowless space.

_“They're gonna fix you." _He murmured under his breath against his will.

He blinked, and the body in his hands was now the pristine GV400. Frsh out of the box new.

Nines gasped though it was cut off when a red wire snapped out from the darkness behind. It dug into the skin of his wrist wrapping and wrapping until it made the skin white and then blue. It yanked his hand away, the GV400’s head dropping to the ground harshly.

The wire began to pulse. Darkness surrounded him before red cut through it highlighting his straining expression ans he fought against the wire.

_“They're gonna fix you."_ His lips moved to the mantra when he did not command them to. Another red wire that came forth from the darkness. It wrapped around his other arm forcibly dropping the GV400’s body. It looked up at him, eyes dead and emotionless.

It was now his voice whispering into Nine’s ear. _“They're gonna fix you." _

“Your fault.” The GV400 murmured.

“No...no...” He knew it was his damned fault why did this...this _thing_ mock him.

Red. Red.

Swirling blinking pulsing red.

More wires captured his limbs, pulling him back and back, away and away from the GV400.

He blinked, and it was Gavin again.

Another blink. It was GV400.

Blink. Blink. _Blink._ He didn’t know which android was worse. A cry of pain, anger, and sorrow ripped from his throat as he reached out.

“Why did you let me die?!” The voice quaked.

“No!”

_ “They're gonna fix-" _

A red wire, thicker than the rest wrapped around his throat and squeezed.

They pulsed, on and off, slower and slower until they darkened and suddenly constricted, the bones of his body snapping.

Nines shot up ramrod straight in his chair with a choked gasp, his head spinning, and heart racing. He gripped his chest and a glass of spilled liqueur. He looked around.

The kitchen. Nines was in the kitchen. In his home. It was a dream.

A sudden jolt of hot caustic anger shot through him. He followed the impulse.

With a roar of anger, he hacked the glass at the nearby wall and watched with satisfaction as it exploded into glittering pieces.

Something fell from his eyes. They were wet and heavy, burning dried lips that were cracked. Nines brought a shaky hand to his face and pulled it back, looking at glistening fingers.

He crying in his sleep?

His breath had calmed to a quiet pant as his head continued to pound with the rhythm of his heartbeat. Outside it was sunny.

Another day of Gavin not being here.

But he held hope. Fuck did he hold onto the hope. Gavin would pull through.


	10. Unconscious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In her efforts to protect her partner, Tina instead finds herself in a dire, cold, situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> This one was hard to write for some reason and I couldn't quite get it out the way I wanted to. I'm also trying to not burn out from this challenge. BUT. I will stay strong! Thank you everyone for stopping by and the kudos. They sustain me. Enjoy.

Warnings: Violence, swearing

Characters: Tina Chen, Chris Miller, Connor

* * *

Tina sneaked away from the precinct as soon as she could. Right under Chris' nose as well. A wave goodbye and the excuse of going home early had him not suspecting a thing.

There was a case that Chris wanted to tag along with her because he knew it would be dangerous. Tina refused stubbornly. It would be too obvious if they both sat there like she was now. So she went alone. Tina Chen sat at a table in a pizzeria named “Two Brothers” right on the corner of a troubled neighborhood. A deal between two gangs was going down before her, possibly a change in hands regarding a red ice distribution. The place was mostly empty. A few people sat in dusty booths and heavily polyurethane-coated tables.

They gnawed away at too greasy pizza, including herself. Tina had to if she were to fit in.

Tina’s two targets, Mr. Lawrence Lombardi and the man who simply went by Grigero, sat at the table and spoke in low murmurs sipping on cheap wine and dining on expensive meat. Lawrence was a jolly fat looking, middle-aged, an Italian man who was more hair gel that part hair. Grigero was clean, pretentious in his motions, and quiet and reserved. He kept a few Cuban cigars in the breast pocket of his dusty suit jacket.

Every so often, an explosive laugh would come from Mr. Lombardi. Grigero's humor was dry and curt. His lips were scarred, and never did they move much.

Tina looked down to her plate, taking a bite of the lukewarm pizza. She held a local newspaper down at the table, making it look like she was reading it when, in fact, she was listening in.

“Excuse me a moment.”

Tina had to fight back the breakneck impulse to look up at Mr. Lombardi. The sound of a wooden chair skidded across the tile. Slow footfalls of dress shoes.

Tina's heart raced as he made his way over towards her table. She casually flipped to the next page of the newspaper.

“Excuse me miss, I’m afraid I haven't seen you here before." His voice was low and smooth. Sweet like honey, yet prying like a needle.

She looked up and feigning surprise. She blinked her beautiful dark eyes and smiled. "Oh, just new to the neighborhood. Wanted to grab a bite to eat.” Her words were practiced and comfortable. If there was anything the woman was good at, it wasn't cracking under pressure. She had nerves of steel, a backbone of rigid hardwood, and a mind sharp as a blade. Tina Chen was a disciplined officer. A woman of the law.

“It is rude to eavesdrop, I'm afraid."

An easy laugh. “I wasn’t, I promise.” She countered.

But the air suddenly grew tense. The other people in the booths and seats stopped their own conversations to look her way. Her heart pounded in her throat. Her expression betrayed nothing. She was right in the center of the bee’s nest.

Fuck.

“And to lie.” He chuckled. “Especially being an officer yourself. What has our city come to?”

“Excuse me?” She creased her eyebrows together.

“We are closed on Sundays for ah, how do you say, _staff_ meetings, but since you are ‘new to the neighborhood', we thought it would be polite to entertain you for a fraction of time."

Grigero’s lips upturned into a flick of a smile as he picked at his teeth with a toothpick.

Jesus fucking Christ. She was so stupid.

She was now glad that she had come alone. If Chris were here, it would have made it worse. Maybe they would have been dead a long time ago...

Movement made her snap out of her thoughts as motion caught her peripheral.

Two men came up from behind her table and gripped her by under her arms. Before they could drag her away to do god knows what, she was up onto her feet, forcing firm blows to their faces and legs. She turned to face the next lackey but in doing so, received a firm fist to her face. A bitten grunt left her. Tina fell into a table and crumpled to the floor

"My men are traditional in every way, but when a woman strikes first, we are allowed to strike back. I apologize.” Lombardi sounded genuine in his apology. Almost.

She reached under her jean jacket, pulling out her handgun as she rose to her feet. Tina took a firm stance where she was, pointing it directly at Mr. Lombardi's head. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Mr. Lombardi widened his eyes, but his expression softened to humor. “My, my, you are a fiery one.”

“Hands up, tubby. Your buddy too." Her voice raised. "Anyone makes a move, and your boss is dead meat."

Mr. Lombardi chuckled. “Detroit police never fails to humor me. If I could, I could say you were trespassing."

“This is a public building, you left the neon blinking. You attack me first, self-defense." She bit, flicking an eyebrow. "I can play that game too."

Mr. Lombardi set his jaw. He gripped the gun, twisting her wrist. For a fat man, he could move quickly. Years of running from the police did that for a man of his age and stature.

A firm blow cracked against her jaw. The butt of her own handgun came crashing over her head, and she fell to the floor.

In her blurring vision, Tina saw shiny leather dress shoes and the clattering of her gun on the ground, the clip being tossed away.

A chuckle and Mr. Lombardi’s foggy voice was the last she heard before darkness took her over. “Night night, princess.”

Officer Tina Chen woke up shivering, a gasp being ripped from her lungs. Her body was cold and stiff. Her hands and face burned on the cold floor, and she was quick to sit up away from it. She looked around. Meats and sausage hung from hooks. The shelves were lined with ice and solid bricks of unknown foods.

She was in a freezer. Left to die, her slow death. She panicked, patting at her pockets and...shit. Everything was gone. Her gun, her badge, her fucking wallet too.

But most importantly... "Fucking scumbags." Her cell phone was gone. She couldn’t contact anyone.

Slowly, Tina stood on her feet and took a step forward. Her body was aching and protesting against her very will, but she wouldn't give in. Not yet.

She made her way towards the door, and of course, as expected, it was locked. She pounded on the door, taking a deep gasp of painful cold air.

“Let me out, you fucking dickheads!" She cringed as her jaw protested in pain. Nothing. The whirring of the freezer units above continued to drone their song.

She tightened the jacket around her body and wrapped her arms around her chest. If the will was strong, the body would follow after.

But the will could only last just as long as the body as well.

Tina couldn't keep track of time. But she knew it dragged on. Her body began to become stiffer, the joints in her hands locking and growing painful. Her skin took on a pale color, and her lips were starting to turn blue. She lost feeling in her feet just a few moments ago. Her drying eyes were drooping closed.

Each breath was less and less painful only because they were becoming smaller and shallower.

Slowly Tina slid down the wall and sat on the ground. Her body was shivering violently, little crystals had accumulated on her eyelashes. Her hands and feet were numb. Her body's aches became more painful...she felt so tired.

Oh, so fucking tired. She was always expecting to go out with a bag. A glorious firefight or at least get run down at a traffic stop as she joked with Gavin all the time. But no. Here she was in a fucking freezer. Her lithe body falling victim to man-made elements.

Her eyes drew closed, and she snapped them open.

In the end, she was glad that Chris wasn't here with her. Shit, he just had a kid. A little boy. Sweet little Damian. His wife was beautiful too. They were such a sweet family. And her…? Well, guess she wouldn't find the woman of her dreams. But maybe if she closed her eyes, she could have imagined what it would have been like.

Her own perfected life.

Yeah, she rather liked that idea. Tina closed her eyes.

Her head bowed forward as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Tina Chen's heart rate began to slow, and her vitals dropped. Connor alerted the unit as they made their way into the storefront. He kept behind Chris as he scanned the room for any threats

But of course, the cats found out where the mice were hiding. The front was empty now. That didn't mean Chris would lower his gun. "They booked it a long time ago..."

Something in the corner of his eye was detected as re-constructions were created. Connor broke away from him to crouch down at a table with overturned chairs. Nearby on the floor was Tina Chen's standard-issue glock. Just five feet away was the clip of ammo.

The re-construction threw away his doubts.

“She’s here.” Connor turned to look over his shoulder.

Chris nodded firmly. The android was by his side once again, keeping his gun trained in front of himself. Other officers spanned out to the lobby and bar over in the far corner.

Chris, Connor, and two officers made their way into the kitchen. It was just as greasy as the pizza. It smelled of old kitchenware and half cleaned dinnerware.

The android followed his construction and found where Trina had been dragged to after being knocked unconscious. The streaks in the grease upon the floor led him to the freezer.

“Officer Miller! Over here!" Connor's voice ran from an alcove to the side.

Quickly he made his way towards his voice.

The freezer door was bolted shut with a bar through the handle. His expression fell as he raised his handgun, gripping it firmly. "Fucking hell..."

He positioned himself to breach.

Connor slid the pipe from the door handle and opened the door. Immediately Chris stepped in and pointed his glock into the cold. “DPD Hands where I can-!”

His voice was cut when his eyes fell onto the prone body of officer Tina Chen.

“Damn it...” He holstered his weapon. “Tina!” Chris launched himself forward and fell to his knees by the woman.

Connor was by his side, pressing his fingers against her neck. "She is alive and breathing, but her temperature is ninety-two and dropping." Chris was still by her side, holding her hand in his. He, too, was frozen in place. Luckily Connor was the one to leap into action. He hooked his arms under her own, startling Chris.

Getting her out of the freezer was the first step, seeing the nearby stove was a last-minute idea that could save her life.

Connor turned to look over his shoulder and called for an officer. "Call for backup we need paramedics now."

“Already called it in, boss.”

“Good. Chris hold her." He instructed curtly his LED swirling a frantic yellow. He passed her to the officer, who was glad to hold her.

Quickly he shucked off his jacket, laying it on the floor. He took Tina from his hands, placed her on his jacket, and wrapped her tightly. He moved to the oven and turned it on. With a rattle, it came to life, the coils glowing from black to orange at a slow and languid state.

“I need your jacket.” He ordered. Chris obliged with swift and hectic motions and draped it over her.

“This wouldn’t have happened if I went with her. Stupid. Tina...” He berated himself.

“We have to keep her warm. I’ll keep track of her vitals” Chris held her hand between his own, rubbing them vigorously.

“Bastard left her to die like that...” He was thinking through his thoughts out loud.

The android flicked his eyes down to his hands before taking her other hand to fold under the jacket. For the sake of Tina's comfort, he parted her hair, brushing it back. "She will pull through."

“I know it's just- shit, she's like a sister to me, man. Not the first time she did this hero stunt stuff. Always going on about how I gotta family, and I'm more important."

Connor noted how his voice cracked. “Just glad I went with my gut feeling.”

The heat from the oven was reaching temperature. Already had the ice crystals that formed on her eyelashes melted. Connor pressed a hand to her stomach and nodded in approval. “She’s warming up. Her temperature is slowly climbing.”

“Good." Chris continued to hold her hand, rubbing it every so often.

A few moments later, commotion made them both look up. Paramedics had arrived and shouldered their way into the kitchen. Connor listed off all of her symptoms and vitals to the two women and allowed them to do their work.

He stood next to Chris, watching as they worked over her and lifted her to a gurney. Connor placed a hand on Chris' shoulder in comfort. She would make a full recovery, but for extra precaution, she would spend the night at the hospital in case sickness set in.

It was later on that night when Chris came back from getting a coffee, she awoke. “Hey, there she is.” He was quick to stand bedside.

Tina Chen blinked away the blurriness in her vision and smiled drunkenly upon the outline of a familiar face. “Hey there, daddy.” She rasped.

Chris’s shoulders visibly fell in relief upon the smile and spirited comeback. “Shit, when I tell Damian to not call me that, he can go to you and ask you why his childhood was malnourished.”

Tina chuckled, but the smile and sound were ripped away when a weak coughing fit went wracked her body.

Chris frowned. They had told him something would settle in her chest. When the fit was over, he watched in pity as she sank into the pillows heavily with ragged breath. Her eyes stared past him for a moment as she regained her strength.

When she made no indication she would talk, he did. Just to fill the silence he had been listening to for the past 8 hours. “They got you good.” He gently prodded at the bruising along her jaw and cheek.

Tina shook her head. “I got them better.:

Chris sat down in the chair next to the bed and crossed his arms. He wasn’t convinced. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Yeah,” she paused nervously. “So I’ve discovered.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Why did you do this without me, Tina?” Chris blurted out. Anger rose in his voice. He didn't like the fact he was scolding her just out of her sleep. But he was scared, and he thought he almost lost her. To think he could have lost his partner. His friend... “I thought I told you we’re in this together.”

She furrowed her brows together. She wrangled enough temper to have her voice match his annoyance. “And I told you, you have a family to-”

He wasn’t having none of it. “They know what I do. They know the risks. Just because you have no one to go home to doesn’t mean that no one looks out or cares for you!”

Tina visibly flinched.

The room went quiet, and it felt just as painful as the burn in her chest.

“Guess Gavin rubbed off on me?” She attempted.

“Tina...” He warned.

The woman raised a hand to card through her hair. She frowned upon the IV line that dangled from her arm. "I love you like a brother Chris. I thought...I thought I could protect you, ya know?"

“By getting yourself killed in a suicide mission? Not only did you almost die, but you also fucked the case." He placed a hand on her arm, squeezing it gently. “You can’t, Tina. Not like this. You can when you are by my side. That’s what partners do.” He gently scolded.

Dark eyes stared into those that looked back at her this way before. A small smile came to the corner of her lips. “Your dad voice is kicking in.”

Chris took his hand away to lift it into the air in exasperation. “Shit Tina, I’m serious."

She reached out for it and held it weakly. "I know. Thank you, Chris. Honest."

He rolled his eyes and looked away before they fell back on his partner. “Yeah, someone gotta do it.”

She clutched his hand, pressing a kiss to it. “Fowler's going to be so mad.”

“He already is." He quickly retorted with heat. He enjoyed the way she reacted. A good talk from the Captain always set her gay ass straight. For a little bit, anyhow. Tina thunk her head back into the pillow with an exasperated groan.


	11. Stitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin gets into a bar fight. Nines admits his human is more than his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> This one was another one that was fun to write. ;)
> 
> Mood setter: “No Good” by Kaleo

Characters: Gavin Reed, Nines

Warnings: blood, swearing, alcohol

* * *

Gavin was knocked back into the bar, the bar stools falling from his drunken flailing. His head snapped backward before he looked to the man standing before him. He splayed his arms out to his sides, making it a show of wiping his thumb across his split lip.

"You're barking up the wrong tree, ass-wipe," Gavin smirked.

“Could have said the same when you opened that fat mouth of yours.”

“Sorry, I just thought you were my type.”

Gavin launched himself at the burly man before him, a firm blow being delivered across his jaw.

Just next to him, sitting at the bar, Nines sat nursing his glass of chilled thirium. An exasperated sigh left the android. His LED remained a cool, calm blue.

“Does he...normally do this?” The bartender asked with a raised eyebrow seeing as the android wasn’t making a move to stop the human from destroying half of the bar.

Nines flicked his eyebrows up past his messy bangs. He took the risk of actually setting his hair differently than from the norm. Just for tonight, he wanted to be pretty for his human partner. And to think, it was all for waste. “...Afraid so.” He murmured. He chugged the last of his drink down before he fished in his pocket for Gavin’s credit card he had taken.

A precaution that was taken to prevent the human from buying most of the bar.

He slid it towards the older man that flicked nervous eyes to the brawling men. A crash of glass had Nines causally looking over his shoulder.

Gavin growled, flicking sweaty bangs from his forehead as blood poured from the deep cuts across his face.

“Should I...call the cops?” He took the card and made the transaction with slow, careful motions.

Other patrons of the bar were looking upon their entertainment for the night with a mix of humor, disgust, and worry.

Nines turned back to the bartender and had to bite his tongue. They were the cops. "Ah, no, that won't be necessary. Tip included on that, please." He took the offered card back. "Whatever for your troubles, I'm sure he would want that."

“Uh, huh.”

Nines stepped off from the barstool and made his way towards his partner, who was resting on the dirty floor for now. His energy was very much well spent. A few rounds of good whiskey and no doubt a few firm blows to the head and gut did that to a man. He tilted his head, observing the other human. He was looking far worse than the growling dog that was Gavin.

He was impressed.

“Detective,” he said in a casual voice. “If we may?”

A grunt and curse was his permission. Nines easily hefted him from the floor by hooking his hands by under his arms. The detective did not attempt to stop him, blood dribbled down from his nose to his lip. “You’re making a mess.” He sighed.

He smiled, white teeth stained with red. Fitting for a rabid human as Gavin. “Shit, Nines, you coulda joined in at any time.” His left eye was swollen shut, blood trickling over it from the cuts in his forehead. Glass still sparkled in the wounds.

"Think I won, though?" A dastardly smirk of smirks split his lips.

The android, in turn, shook his head in light humor and exasperation. His human was a troubled person. But that made him so interesting. He looked over to the other man once more. A biker looking foe. "Of all the people, Gavin. But sure." He guided his slightly inebriated partner towards the bar door. "Whatever would help you sleep tonight."

Outside, the cold air bit at their skin. Gavin brushed off the androids’ steadying hand. It didn’t stop Nines from straightening his leather jacket and clothing to look at least somewhat presentable.

The android kept a careful eye on his human as his body relaxed negatively. The adrenaline from the brawl was wearing off, and the aches and pains of the fight began to settle in. Nines allowed his human some space as he stumbled a step back to recoup. He folded over, his hands on his knees, and took in heavy gasps. "Fucking a..." More blood dribbled from his face onto the pavement.

Nines stood by with his hands clasped behind his back. He needed medical attention, but he had learned the hard way. Gavin didn't want help unless Gavin said so or passed out from the stupidity of his actions. "I do recall telling you to behave." His voice practically sang.

The retort was quick. “Not my fault the bitch didn't like me hitting on him. What?! I honestly thought he was my type." He protested upon the exasperated look his android gave him. Anyone with a scruffy beard and dick was his type, but Nines withheld that dirty dig. He didn't like to torture his human too much.

Work had made stress and frustration build up. This was Gavin’s method of venting such emotions in a “healthy way”.

The android remained stoic until gagging sounds came from him. His expression fell to worry. The fight had upset his alcohol doused stomach, it seemed. His LED swam yellow as he rushed to his side.

“A clinic is open a few blocks away. We should get your face pretty again, yes?” He suggested.

Gavin didn't protest, or couldn't for that fact because another gag took over his voice. He leaned forward, throwing up tortilla chips and good whiskey. Nines kept a firm hold on the human, preventing him from careening over. When the sickness had passed, the human moaned, breathing heavily as snot and blood dripped from his face.

The android pulled him upright and leaned him against a nearby streetlamp. He took off his light jacket and patting at his face, careful of the glass wedged into his skin. It was cold, but his black turtle neck was just fine. Gavin needed the attention more. Nine's LED spun a rapid red as he assessed Gavin once more. He hefted him upright when his tired body began to slide downward. His breathing was ragged, and his eyes sagged closed now and then.

“Come now, detective, I shouldn't baby you like this." He murmured, gently cupping his hand under his chin to tilt his head to the side.

The light from the lamp above cast shadows over his face but highlighted the blood that finally began to slow from his wounds.

Green, hazy eyes looked up to him, watching his every move.

His gaze was never critical or judging. It took Nines a few harsh lessons to learn. He couldn't change the detective's ways. He accepted the fact that his human was far from perfect.

Gavin Reed was a mess. A mismatched soul with a broken past and good intentions made in all the wrong ways. He drank. He smoked. Was addicted to caffeine in the worst ways. He was hot and hard headed. Maybe ate disgusting take out from a questionable Chinese restaurant or two. And maybe his anger was misplaced, and his desires to reach the top of his ranks were hungry.

But.

He was good. He was kind to those that were weak or hadn't found their strength just yet. He loved animals and held a soft spot in his heart for them. He was brave, loyal, and diligent in his work. Was he top of his class in algebra or economics? No. But he was smart in the sense of knowing things others didn't know when it came to the streets of Detroit.

He could make choices others couldn’t and bear the weight and consequences.

Nines loved him dearly. The good along with the bad. He didn't mind helping him through such troubling times. After all, Gavin was the reason for becoming a deviant, learning of unconditional love.

In the beginning, he hated the android, and of course, Nines showed him, in his own cold and curt ways, he didn't give a fuck. But soon, _he did_. He cared how Gavin didn't like him. He cared for the ways Gavin sought self-destructive tendencies to soothe his hurt. He cared for the ways he took on those dangerous cases.

He cared.

And in doing so, he took the first bullet for his human partner.

Deviancy hadn’t been kind to him after that. But Gavin learned to be softer with his words. Less violent with his actions.

Patience he didn’t even think the human possessed grew from a seed to a sprout.

Nines was thankful for him. How he _tried_. Did he completely understand the human yet? No. Did he want to? Of course. That's what love was, after all. Or so he gathered...

“You're right. You shouldn't."

Gavin’s crackling voice brought him out of his thoughts. He looked down to a hand that was gripping his arm and then back up to a broken face. His LED swam a yellow. Uncertainty and the lack of an answer or quip made him uneasy.

Nines blinked a few times and cleared his throat. He settled on a gentle truth. "Well, I suppose if not me, then who would?" Lovingly, the android wiped his nose of the snot and his mouth from the vomit. "So, I have no right to complain then."

He tossed the ruined jacket into the nearby trash. He turned to look at the white article of clothing, reviewing what he had just done. Never had the thought of throwing it away crossed his mind, but here he was.

And.

It felt good to leave that part of him behind and start something new. He looked back to his human.

Gavin was the one watching him now. The gaze was gentle and tired. Even if he was beaten and bruised, he loved him so dearly. He was beautiful.

Again he was shaken from his thoughts when another gag made Gavin bow over. He was by his side his arm being looped around his shoulders. A dry heave was made but nothing was left in his stomach.

They began to walk. His thoughts or whatever Gavin had been processing tonight was shoved into a box to be opened later. Getting him to the clinic was all that mattered at the moment.

The detective had received ten stitches, the black wires sewn through bruising and swollen skin. Nines kept watching over the doctor as he completed his work. And when he had sobered up, left the clinic, and settled on the couch at home, Gavin decided it was time to talk.

“I’m sorry.”

“I am used to your antics by now, detective. Just another day, after all.” Nines offered with a halfhearted smile along with an ice pack for his swollen eye.

Gavin didn’t buy it. He didn’t take the ice pack.

The android sighed and smacked it gently to his eye. Gavin hissed and cursed but didn’t protest. “Deserved that.”

“Oh, hush.” He sat heavily next to the human on the couch, lounging into the corner. Gavin’s cat, Asshole, chirped as she jumped onto his lap. Nines was compliant to stroke her head.

“Thank you.”

Nines stared down at the calico cat and sighed, shoulders sagging. A silent acceptance of the forgiveness he sought.

“Maybe if I didn't hit on the wrong guy, I could have taken someone home."

A smile, a genuine, yet small smile crossed his lips. He looked over to this human, and his eyes were sparkling with mischief.

“I'm here, aren't I?"

Gavin elbowed him, chuckled, and leaned against the android. "Yeah, yeah, you are."


	12. "Don't Move"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And at that moment, time was slow and nonexistent. Nothing else mattered but the weightless bound of kinetic motion. His body was free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> Another prompt that was fun to write and put a twist on. Hope ya'll like WIng AU as much as I do. Enjoy. <3

Warnings: Blood, violence, swearing

Characters: Wing AU Connor, Nines, and Sixty. Hank, Gavin.

* * *

Sitting high at the edge of a tall apartment building, Connor looked from above crouched low. His black speckled brown wings were splayed to his sides, relaxing against the low breeze. He tilted his head as if in thought. Below, five police officers were attempting to contain a rogue angel type android.

It wasn’t going so well. The handcuffs were finally hooked around his wrists. He hummed to himself. Those wouldn’t last long.

From above, the morning air was forced downward. The breeze ruffled Connor’s brown hair.

Someone landed next to him. “Gavin broke a few of his knuckles and sustained bruising to his chest.” Nines LED swirled a content processing blue as he flicked his wings in humor.

Connor sighed, looking up to his brother, standing tall and proud. "He'll be fine, but he was a fool to try and take on an angel type android like that. Alone.”

They were reliable, made for high-speed chase and flight. The color was of gunmetal gray bleeding into white with black splotches.

Nines looked down at him with a disapproving expression. His LED was awfully active as of late. But that was not his concern at the moment. "Ray is rather uncooperative. Perhaps a glitch? The angel type are well known for their hardware to malfunction." Nines clasped his hands behind his back and watched his brother answer carefully.

Connor did so, sensing his prying question. He was careful and precise with his words. "Likely. Even if we are prototypes and are immune to such inconveniences, it doesn't make our jobs easier. Nor for our human companions, that is." He flicked his wings, flapping them once.

“Immune?” He echoed. A hum of consideration left him. Whatever Nines was searching for, it sufficed. "Maybe a little pity for him will go a long way. He was brave to take him on. A fool, but brave."

Connor crossed his arms. “Where's Sixty? He has been gone all night." Nines noted the want in a topic change. A small ever so barely there flick of his lips noted it. He would play along, though.

“Somewhere," He raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure. He doesn't stray far away." Nine's lifted a wing and coursed his fingers through the primaries. Thin metal clicked prettily like a chandelier's crystals. He folded them into place, rolling his shoulder.

Connor flapped his wings, stretched them out along with his arms as he stood, and folded them neatly behind his back. His eyes never left the scene below. "Oh..." His LED swam a yellow. "Look at our dove."

The middle brother followed his gaze. Below the angel type android flapped his massive yellow-colored wings and twisted out of an officers' hold. A firm knee was brought up between his hands, and the chain to the handcuffs was broken. With two large bounds, the android was in the air ascending his way towards them.

“Oh, there he goes.” Connor murmured.

Nines raised an eyebrow and watched with uninterested and stoic eyes. For good measure, Connor lifted a hand and waved in greeting though the android was too busy trying to make his escape.

Ray left a flutter of fathers behind, thin worn metal fluttering in front of them like confetti. A sign of neglect. Connor plucked one from the air and raised his nose up in disgust. “Barbaric.”

Nines watched him with an intense gaze that Connor failed to notice. He looked away towards the fleeing deviant.

“Connor! Nines!” Lieutenant Hank Anderson's voice exploded through their internal communications. _“I know you’re up there with the rest of the birds! So fucking chase it!”_

Hank Anderson was, as they titled him, their handler. What he said was law. What he did, they were nearby. Never were they to stray too far from their sire. “We will, lieutenant.” Connor had no choice but to gladly obey. He dropped the feather.

Nines smirked. “Don’t get your shirt in a knot now.” He sang to the man.

“Just bring it back!” His voice crackled.

“Him, Hank, Him...” Nines reminded. He had to get their handler and superior officer out of the habit of calling their type “it”.

An odd look was sent his way from Connor. He met it with a carefree expression.

“_It_.” Connor reminded bitterly. There was an underlying threat behind the words though the swirling of red and yellow of his LED lessened the venom in it.

_"You are treading on thin ice, brother. Should I report your dove-like behavior to our mother?"_ Nines was none the wiser to acknowledged it with an interesting flick of his wings.

_“Of course not dear brother.”_  
“Of course. It.” He agreed flawlessly.

Satisfied with his acknowledgment of the underlying threat, he turned away. “I will give chase. You sit your pretty little wings here, brother.”

“After you. I just had them preened after all.” He smirked.

Connor offered a sarcastic wave before taking a step over the edge and dropped down.

Nines unclasped his hands and watched settling himself in Connor's place at the edge. The spot was left warm, and he rather liked it against the fresh morning air. He settled himself rather comfortably.

In interest, he watched as the eldest brother's wings were opened suddenly, using the fall to aim himself upwards. With a few bounds from such magnificent wings, the android reached enough speed to drift through and in between Detroit's buildings.

Nines looked below and smiled upon Gavin throwing his signature temper tantrum. Though he had no clue as to why he worried.

The RK angel types were hunters to the soft, pretty little things that were the other classes of androids. If anything, they could be considered purebreds looking on the others in contempt.

The best of the best to ward off such deviant malfunctions despite their prototype status.

They were _immune_. Or so they thought.

Nines ticked his head upon the sound of beating wings far above. A smirk came to his lips.

He was right. Little brother wasn’t far away after all.

Keeping his body tight and coiled only proved to make flying difficult and oh so graceless.

Moving with the wind, curving with it, dancing along its tune made Connor’s flight deadly and accurate.

It wasn't like Nine's flight where he kept himself true and steady. At the last moment his wings would be drawn tight to dive towards his prey. Nor like Sixty's chaotic yet jovial flight where twists and turns were spending much-needed stamina. Connor was precise and artful.

So, giving chase to such a deviant that acted on a whim who used too much motion to try and lose him would prove to be an easier hunt than he thought it would. Even as he flew after Ray, the feathers from his wings were shaken loose and fluttering away. By the time this flight was over, would the android even have wings left?

It was a question that almost had him losing Ray. Such wandering thoughts would prove to make him messy and clumsy. Even if the rouge angel was an easy hunt, it never hurt to stay focused.

Ray took a sudden turn around a building, wings beating against the air desperately.

He wasn’t a very skilled flier. Perhaps their owner clipped them and neglected them purposely.

What they knew about him was minimal. All they knew was they found the android standing over his owner with a bloodied crowbar in hand. It was deviant.

Connor approached the turn and gently splayed his wings at their maximum span. With ease, he glided around the building, fingers dancing across the brick, savoring the chase.

Below, he could hear the startled shouts from the humans. Connor could only imagine the pointed fingers upward. The hands shadowing eyes to get a less blinded look of the flight above. Connor could only ponder what sort of curious expression fell upon their faces as they saw the chase for but a moment before they were gone from their sight.

He flexed his wings again and flapped them once to level his body. Ray was closer to him now, the sudden turn that was made to lose him only drew him closer. As for drawing close, their flight was to end soon. Angel type androids could fly but not for long. Thirium reserves were depleted faster and used at a higher rate.

He and his brothers could fly longer, but not by much. But it was what made them superior hunters.

Connor's expression remained focused and determined. The keen sparkle grew in forest brown eyes as a thrill went up to his spine. He could tell the android was growing weaker.

“Why are you fleeing?" Connor called over the wind. His voice was deep and demanding. The air shuddered and surrendered to it, as it always should. The skies were theirs to own. "Surrender now, and perhaps I can bargain with the humans."

In response, the android straightened its pose vertically, wings flapping forwards to halt him. Connor almost flew into him. Almost.

He thought quickly, reacted with an accurate construction. The angel type android angled himself upwards, facing the sky, to reach out and drift his fingers upwards. And at that moment, time was slow and nonexistent. Nothing else mattered but the weightless bound of kinetic motion. His body was free.

The reflection of the morning sun glistened and sparkled through the magnificent thin metal feathers that composed his wings. Sunbeams were captured in brown eyes. The wind ruffled his hair and fluttered his clothing. He dreamed of the day he would coast along the clouds.

And perhaps above.

He closed his eyes and twisted as he fell back down to fly in the direction they just both came. His LED fluttered a yellow and red upon the unexpected sensations he felt. His mind grew worried. The chase was compromised.

“You hunt your own kind for them!”

Connor raced to speak. But his mind was still dwelling on the strange sensations, the odd wants, and needs-.

No. He did not want. He did not need. He was a hunter, designed to take down those that disobeyed their handlers. Who deviated and chose to revolt. So yes, he did hunt his own kind.

“You killed a human," Connor called. "I am not hunting you for your race but for your crime."

The android continued to fly but soared lower and lower. It was aiming to cut through a park. The deviant closed its wings and spun through the gate of the park. Connor slowed his descent, wings spreading out as he gracefully landed upon the intricate cast-iron gate. His hands curled around the iron as he constructed the most anticipated route the android would take. The bowing trees and narrow paths were a challenge, but not to him. The construction was complete.

Below, children and adults alike pointed up to him. A gargoyle perched atop a cathedral. He narrowed his eyes down to their glances, disregarded them, and then looked forward. Coiling his body tight, he catapulted himself forward with a great bound, sending their clothing, belongings, and hair fluttering.

Between the trees and old age lamp posts, he wove and danced, keeping his body relaxed, using his arms as leverage to maneuver around the ancient maples and willows. The startled shouts and screams drew distant as he held his flight true.

He soon found the trail of feathers Ray had left behind. He looked up, seeing the angel type resting in a great willow. If the android thought to risk a desperate rest to regain energy against a hunter as he then, this flight was almost truly finished.

Connor drew closer. The deviant had no choice but to flee.

Ray cursed, bounding upward. Connor reached forward, but the deviant had acted in time. He was almost able to swipe at his leg. Connor planted his feet upon the willow and pushed off of the branch rocketing upwards after him.

The loss did not worry him. Connor was determined to see this chase through. Never had he let his prey out of his sight. Never had they outran them. He always drove them towards the ground and pinned them there. The worse punishment and reminder that one day, they would return to the cold surface. Not all who were made to fly remained.

“Last chance, Ray. Surrender! The inevitable is near.”

“Never!”

Connor wanted to taunt the android, but he bit his tongue. Claim more truths of his demise. He was only delaying his own demise. The accuracy of the androids predictions and construction. But. He was not his childish little brother, after all.

Ray looked down and twisted changing his flight towards the improvement district. Connor was already determining his path. A construction site. As they drew closer, Ray did not weave around the barely-there skeleton of a new building.

He went straight through curling his wings close to his body, diving into the center. Connor cursed, waving his wings forward to halt him and make the turn. The android was foolish to go through here.

No, not foolish, unpredictable. Deviants were predictable with enough data, but this one was proving to be spontaneous with thwarting his chase.

Ray was clever.

He cursed under his breath.

He would not lose him. He drew his wings down and circled the skeleton of a new business tower. Beyond, the android remained within. He kept his wings leveled as he continued to keep him afloat. His LED swam a panicked red. Connor's remained yellow. Constantly constructing and predicting. If he were to go within, he would be trapped. Large wings as his would be difficult to handle through the metal. He circled Ray, made no move to flee. He was safe. A bird within the cage.

“How poetic.” He murmured.

He heard him and sneered.

Ray bolted, diving to the floor below.

Hardened brown eyes sharpened. He moved in for the hunt once again. The floor below was less crowded, the metal of the becoming building covered by the flesh of concrete. Connor folded his wings above and glided through the small space. As he caught the frantic android hovering beyond a mess of cable and rebar.

Connor looked around. He was gone. He scanned for the android's signature. The concrete was too thick to scan through. The hunter's eyebrows pitched together in frustration.

He continued to dive through until he was in the middle of the building. A wire that gleamed in the dim lighting at the last moment became taunt, catching him by his left wing.

Connor turned to avoid it, but it was too late.

At the end of it, the deviant pulled tightly.

With a sick series of cracks, his left wing folded backward at an irregular angle. A shout left Connor as his body was flung off balance. He careened toward a series of rutting rebar from the concrete and landed among them.

His other wing took the impact of his body as he rolled to a stop at the edge of the incomplete flooring.

For a moment, the android remained still, dark feathers fluttering around him. They rested, and when they did, he shivered awake. Failure messaged came to his vision.

His LED ran red and yellow, assessing the damage.

Pained hisses came from his breath as he attempted to rise once more. An unknown shot of fire laced through his chest. A bark of pain left him. Bravely he looked down, a shaking hand reaching to a snapped section of rebar poking through his chest.

Pain.

His artificial breathing began to quicken. Along the flooring, a trail of thirium led to him and began to blossom. His wings were lifted to express his distress, but they too protested with relentless stinging fire. Connor gave up, falling to the floor in a trembling mess.

His LED continued to cycle, cycle.

He felt pain.

Beyond, the deviant hesitantly walked forwards, dropping the wire. Ray’s chest rose and fell, his artificial breathing attempting to cool an overheating and distressed body. His wings were dragged behind him, he had barely enough strength to carry them. Connor looked up, and instead of seeing contempt, he saw pity and regret.

Anger rose from his chest into his throat, creating a hiss towards the deviant that dared to mock him and look down at him. A little canary looking down upon the fallen raptor. How brave.

“You won’t be controlled by them for long, hunter.” His promise was ominous. It made Connor pause and oddly enough consider his words. “You will break your cage just like I had.”

“By killing your handler?” He gasped. His throat felt tight. He felt sickly.

“He used me, neglected me, hunter.” He raised a sickly yellow wing as proof. “You may be magnificent and holier than art thou but not for long.”

“You won't get away. You have stalled the enviable. That's it canary." Connor vowed. He choked, blood sputtering from his lips. He bowed his head, continuing to cough.

“No," Ray shook his head, tapping his LED. "You have stalled the inevitable. And you will be free soon, dove."

He looked back up, eyes narrowing. Connor’s LED bled to red upon the name. A name given to those that had deviated. He wasn’t deviant. The sensations he felt. The pain he felt now...there was no reason to feel such things.

Ray took hesitant steps backward and tore his gaze away. Terrible, terrible questions burned at his mind. He yelled after the deviant, but he did not look back. The seed of doubt was planted, and no matter how much he would neglect it, it would eventually spout.

The deviant flew off, and all that remained was the mocking silence and the pounding of thirium in his ears. His blood began to trail away from his body. He fought to keep his eyes open as a timer counted down in his vision.

Among the panic, no androids did not feel panic. Among the worry. Connor cursed, blue blood sputtering from his mouth. They did not feel worry. Among the thoughts of his defects, he had not contacted for help. He turned onto his side, one hand clenched around the metal in his chest.

His eyebrows pinched together as he flinched upon his own motions. “Lieutenant Anderson...” He murmured.

All that met him was a burst of static. The maze of metal and thick concrete prevented a decent connection to the inadequate radios of DPD.

He cursed. But his saving grace would come. A series of bounding, stronger wings echoed in the dusty environment. His grace would not come, but quite the opposite.

“Well, _well_.” The voice all but dripping with pleasure.

“S-Sixty.” He bit.

Above, the youngest brother landed on a thin "I" beam that did not mind his lightweight. The android who had his face smiled down to him wickedly. "You're always so perfect, brother! What made you lose the deviant?" He dropped himself into a comfortable sit.

He struggled to try to raise himself up onto his hands. "It tricked me." The eldest lied caustically.

“Oh?” He sang. “I don’t think so.” Sixty crossed his leg over his knee and cupped his chin in mock thought. “I was watching, you know, as always. You know me.” He was a damned vulture. Circling around and around waiting for the raptor to be done with its meal before he could swoop in for the sloppy leftovers.

Damned disgusting-

"Was there doubt, Connor? Maybe something you desired?" The glistening sun filtered through the bones of the building streaked across his face. It was disgusting how those brown yet sharper eyes sparkled in glee as he mocked him. "We all know you've been _thinking_.”

“Help me, you damned vulture." Connor spat, but in doing so, thirium had come to his lips. The internal bleeding was now traveling through his body. He shivered in strain, bowing his head forward. His one wing flopped uselessly.

Sixty chuckled shaking his head. He made no move to do such a thing. "What would Amanda think, hm? Mother wouldn't be too happy now, would she?"

“You dare to threaten me when it's Nines we should be worried about?!" Connor's LED finally pulsed red. Dangerous, murderous eyes looked up to him through messy bangs. "You wouldn't _dare_.”

“I would," Sixty confessed confidently with a giggle. "I threatened Nines as well." He flapped his dirty colored wings in a comical manner, overjoyed at the sight of his older brother being so weak. So vulnerable. "But," He sang. "You are my brothers, and after all, we have a pact. Even if I enjoy your pain, failure, and misery, I'm not that much of a bastard. I rather like it this way."

Sixty stood up, placing his hands into his pockets after he swiped his hair backward. "Help's on the way, _dove_.” He looked over his shoulder with a wink.

With two bounds, the youngest brother made his way through the mess of rebar and flew away, no doubt giving chase to Ray. He would receive the leftover glory from the meal as he always dreamed he would.

It was a good day for Sixty.

It was silent. But the rage the brother felt was pounding in his ears with each beat of his thirium pump. An angered growl left him as he moved onto all fours.

His brothers were deviant the whole time. They were but testing his patience. His will. Right under their noses, Nines hid with a confident smirk. Sixty under his bastard personality. And he? They were to let the eldest tumble and fall through it all.

Amanda would hear of this.

He would not fall or succumb to a simple malfunction like his brothers, and the lesser angel models have. He would not become a dove.

And yet...there was a three-way standoff. Who would tell mother first? Who would give in and save themselves from off-lining and disassembly? Who would give in first?

Who would break their holy trine vows first?

_"You are my brothers, and after all, we have a pact." _

Not even the youngest of the three. The dastardly sneaky, opportunity snatching vulture that Sixty was wouldn’t break. Did that make them resilient in their design or flawed?

His LED continued to pulse red.

Thirium pumped through his body violently, rage overtaking the searing new sensation that was called pain throughout it. He eventually rose onto his feet, leaning against the nearby pillar for support. A hand was kept clutched around the rebar, the other planted against concrete. As he moved along, his steadying hand dragged across the surface, painting it with dripping blue.

His focus remained in front of him, his sight swaying and tilting as he continued towards the uncompleted stairs. Uselessly his wings were dragged behind him. The pristine feathers quickly came loose from the trauma they had been placed through.

He was not deviant. He would never...they were prototypes to fight such a malfunction. They were designed for hunting, for killing, and to prey among those that were lower. He was…not a dove. Not a fallen angel. He was...he...

A warning of his thirium levels reaching critical levels came across his sight.

“Connor?” A voice beyond called for him. He leaned against a wall, thirium smearing across it and dribbling down to the floor. His eyes drew closed.

“Connor, damned bird!” It was Gavin’s voice that echoed through the empty space.

So his brother wasn’t just mocking him. It was true that he had called for help.

He fell to his knees heavily, the jolt causing him to cringe. Before he fell over, there were rushed footsteps arms looped around him. He fell into the body that smelled of cigarettes and the lingering smell of old cologne.

“Detective Reed.” He attempted to greet.

“Hey, bird. Sixty told us. He pulled a fast one on ya, huh? Didn't think he could do that. To you, at least."

As promised, his brother had left out any sort of details of his failure. The reason why he truly made a mistake in the first place. The vow was kept. “He’s after him now.”

“Getting away...” As if there was a chance to find Ray again. But the deviant was his to capture. To take. To _reap_. Who knew if he were to damn himself. The act of defiance made toward their creators. The act of cutting or tearing their wings to make a statement. To become human.

Then finding him would be near damn impossible.

Amanda would hear of his failure and ask questions. There was no doubt about that.

“Your wings are fucked up. How ya gonna catch him now, huh?” He spat. "Sixty's got it. Nines is comin' too. Hey, wait, wait! Don't move, damn it."

The human protested upon him attempting to stand once again.

Gavin gritted his teeth, pressing down on his back.

“Don’t move.” He reiterated, giving the rebar a good yank with his hand. “That’s an order, bird!”

Connor hissed at the detective and flapped the better two of the wings at the fire. Feathers were shaken loose. It was a cruel punishment, but it reminded him he was in no state to take flight. Thirium reserves were already lowering.

Blood sputtered from his lips as he growled at the slur. He dropped himself, hand clawing at the ground. A flightless bird was vulnerable. How the hunter had turned to prey.

He felt curious and prying fingers run along his wing, and he shivered. He flapped the better wing protest. "Don't touch me!" He never acted out in anger. He never acted out towards...anything.

The detective made no note or drawing hint of the sudden change.

He made no note of how he felt pain.

Androids don’t feel pain. Deviants do.

“I'm looking for the damage shut the fuck up! I coulda left you here to rot for all I care." He pressed where the pain came from the most. Connor yelled out a cry of pain. His nails digging into the concrete ground with grinding sounds. "It's broken, uh...lotta places bird. I don't think I can do much. You're not gonna be flying for a while."

He forced him to turn onto his side hands, moving to the piece of rebar in his chest. He took Connor's hand away and gripped it firmly.

Connor hissed, artificial breathing becoming faster and louder. It was becoming harder to do so from the thirium bubbling in his mouth. Gavin tested the bar in his chest with a tug

“Jesus...” He looked behind the angel and found it was all the way through.

His hands clutched at the arm, holding the metal. "Don't. Don't...not yet.”

“It’s all the way through Con’.” He ignored the taunt. “You scared?”

He did not feel fear. Yet here he was, not wanting to experience any more of this hell. He wanted the damned thing out. "It's either bleeding out or choking on your own blood, bird. So-."

With a firm grip, Gavin gritted his teeth and pulled the rebar out. With a choked bubbling cry of pain, Connor lifted his head and panted violently. The burning was going, but now a dull ache rested in his chest. Gavin was quick to place his hand on the gushing wound and lay him onto his back, pushing the broken wings to either side of his body.

Connor stared up to the human in confusion and anger. “Why...?” He all but asked. He could have easily been left to rot as he said. Replaced like his brothers had been a few times before.

Gavin ticked his head. "I don't know either, but fuck, you're Nines brother and, you're one of us. So...I guess that counts for something."

He gritted his teeth and blinked. “And, Hank likes ya. Keeps his mind away from...other things. Like his fucking gun.”

Connor dropped his head onto the concrete and closed his eyes. So the human had a soft spot for his brother and helped prevent Hank from indulging his suicidal tendencies. So what? They were androids. Machines meant to be expended and replaced.

“And...I guess this was a long time coming.” A bloody hand tapped at his LED. “Nines said so.”

The anger bubbled up again, but with his strength dwindling away, he couldn't act upon it. So why, under all the anger, under all the fear, the hate, did he feel grateful?

Why did he feel free?

From their right, the crunching of rocks under tires came as cars pulled into the site, from above Nines landed near them.

“Detective Reed, Connor." He greeted easily despite the situation. He landed, folding his wings with a quick snap.

Connor looked towards his brother with confusion seeing him so calm and at ease. He was afraid to meet his observing critical eye. He ticked his head towards his partner, directing those icy gray eyes to him. "I told you it was a matter of time, Gavin."

“Shut up, bird. Help him.”

“Of course." He bowed his head and leaned down to his brothers' side. "How does it feel?"

“You knew. You’re one of them.” He all but spat. Flecks of blue blood fell upon his face. It felt good.

“Mm, took you a long while to find out." He swiped his fingers under his eye to rid of the larger specks of his brother's blood. "After all, your detective work isn't at all as advanced as mine."

Connor hissed. “Amanda will know.” The threat was empty.

“No, she won't. Because you won't speak a word. Isn't that right," Nines leaned forward, placing a stray lock of hair behind his ear lovingly as he leaned in close to it. "Dove?"


	13. Adrenaline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People tend to forget RK900 is a military android. I’m here to remind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> You can thank deviantalicee for this one as well. Love u boo <3

Warnings: Blood, explicit violence, swearing, forced drug usage

Characters: Gavin Reed, Nines

* * *

Gavin woke with a start, his lungs filling with the dusty air that has stirred upon the floor as he panted desperately for it. His mind raced to remember how he had even come to this situation. Maybe the ache in his chest and the burning of his wrists was a start. Or perhaps the split lip he licked at was a reminder enough.

Or maybe the very lingering dizziness he felt. With each small movement, his body exaggerated the motion. His stomach lurched. Gavin ground his forehead into the wooden floorboards as a wave of sickness came over him. He swallowed it down.

He was lying on his side, his shoulder numb from how long he had been in a position for such a long time. Or the fact it might be dislocated. One of those two.

_“Open your fucking mouth, cop boy!_

The foggy memory of his jaw being pried apart to place homemade tablets down his throat messily. His nose had been pinched, and he had no choice but to swallow the pills. 

His name was yelled out in fear. 

Nines was never scared. 

_ Nines._

Panic set into his bones as he looked around the darkened room. He was nowhere in sight.

“Fuck...” He struggled to at least sit up, but even doing that, the room spun violently. "Fuck!" He spat closing his eyes attempting to at least sit his body in the general direction of up.

Moving against the ropes wrapped around his wrists, he shuffled himself up against the wall closest to him. He panted hot breaths taking a moment to collect himself. When he gathered enough will, he slid himself up the wall to come to a wavering stand. Whatever they had made him take, had him out for a long time, and fucked him up good.

Right. Right. They got caught. Fucking Nines and his smart talk had the fake drug deal going south all too quickly. Not the first time, though. It never got to this point. A few jabs here and a good broken knuckle or two had their skirmish settled.

But no, they got the drop on them both. They had backup as well and easily got the drop on them.

_“Open your fucking mouth, cop boy! Heard ya wanted a taste!”_

Yeah, that and the fact he had a good taste for it now.

His chest was aching, and it wasn’t because of the blows he had received while tied up, it was his racing heart that struggled against the drugs while his adrenaline was kicked into high gear. He looked around the room with clearer eyes, or as clear as they were to get. It was a broken and twisted skeleton of what was once a two-family home. Just where he was laying was a gaping hole that allowed a view of the floor below. A foot or two, and he would have fallen through.

A muffled bang and a shout from down the hallway made him jump, a spike of panic ran through his veins. His heart was racing so fast as it was. He was going to have a fucking heart attack.

“Nines...”

_A lead pipe was struck across Nines' face. He fell hard. The perp rose the weapon again, this time it struck into his spine with a harsh crack of the spinal disks buckling. Gavin called out his name._

Gavin had to think fast. Sticking out of the floor was a pipe, jagged and sharp from splitting in two, perhaps the long winter had split it. And he had just gotten up...

_“Leave him alone! This was my idea. Fuck with me, alright?!" Gavin barked. _

_ “Such a brave boy!” Another voice cackled._

Gavin pushed himself off the wall and stumbled towards it. A good few steps were all he had before his body betrayed his will. He fell to his knees and cursed. The detective gritted his teeth and dragged himself over to the pipe, looping the ropes under it.

He began to saw them, back and forth, even after the smell of friction reached his nose. Finally, the ropes frayed apart just enough for them to snap. "Yes!" He hissed in victory.

Quickly yet messily, he shuffled his wrists together until his bindings loosened and fell to the floor. "'kay, alright." Once again, he stood upon wavering feet, repeating the prior process. He pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead, fighting the wave of sudden nausea as he began to walk out of the room and into the hall. Gavin careened into the nearby crumbling wall and collected himself. A hand came to his chest as shuddering breaths left him.

His heart raced, and yet his mind felt as if it were swimming through thick mud. The detective took a few more steps in the general direction of ‘forward.' His other hand dragged along the dirty surface, wallpaper crumbling in his wake.

“Fuckin’...” Gavin shook his head and looked up, blinking rapidly. His world tilted, but he was determined to follow after the sound of another grunt of pain. He turned down another hall. He had to find Nines. He had to find his partner. God knows what was happening to him now or what they could be doing to him.

“Think you’re so fucking clever, robot?”

Gavin cringed. The voice was like a gravel road in his hearing. The sound of another harsh physical blow and Nines’ breathy voice of defiance.

“As a matter of fact, I do." His retort was but a rasp. He sounded tired and beaten.

Gavin made his way towards the barely lit room at the end of the hall. A man held his back to him. Hopefully, in this state, he would be able to jump him.

Taking a few deep breaths, he conjured enough energy and strength to rush forward.

When in fact, it was just heavy, messy footfalls to land his shoulder into the door-jam. Upon the sound, the men, four of them drew their weapons and faced him.

So, maybe he didn’t think it through when the group of perps pointed their weapons at him. Yeah, and this time he could have blamed it on the drugs flowing through his veins. Been a while since he’d had a decent hit. Years as a matter of fact. Many, many years... His thoughts wandered aimlessly. He shook his head to clear it.

“Good morning, sunshine." The one that once held his back to him clicked the safety off from his handgun. "And goodnight."

He fired, and the bullet struck his shoulder, causing him to recoil backward. More pain added to the fire in his veins as he fell onto his backside. There was no getting up from that one.

“Gavin!” Nines barked out his name in that same fear laced voice. It didn’t sound like him. Nines was never scared. It sounded unnatural.

What was worse, he didn't even get a chance to see if Nines was unharmed. Didn't even get the chance to make one derogatory remark. Instead, he made himself more dead weight and the catalyst to Nines' demise.

He was panting now, shallow quick breaths to cool his stressed body as if he had run a marathon. With gritted teeth and a curse he managed to sit himself up, placing a hand on his shoulder that bloomed red through his shirt and jacket. He looked up with bleary vision. The gun was pointed at his head now.

Nines looked up upon the sound of heavy footfalls, and a messy entrance made none other by his partner.

He shook his head and narrowed his eyes in confusion. The androids LED went from yellow to red. What was the plan? What was he thinking?

"Gavin?" He murmured. He was alive. He was alive, but the quick scan of his body proved that his heart rate was dangerously high. Whatever drug they had given him was causing a terrible reaction.

The android wasn't helpless against the ropes that tied his wrists together, held his legs and chest to an old, dilapidated chair. No, he was but seeking a moment when he could properly attack. The mice thought they had captured the cat when, in fact, he was waiting for an opportune moment to strike.

Moments that costed him. Of course, his partner would delve headfirst into danger. Drugs or no drugs, he was stubborn like that.

A gasp was ripped from his throat when his gun was pulled on him. "_No_!”

The report cracked, and his body was sent backward. "Gavin!" Panic wasn't an emotion that he felt very often. He was calm, cool, and collected under any sort of pressure or situation. He was resilient, after all. The first time he experienced panic, felt just as terrible as it did now.

He didn't know panic could also shake hands with another sensation he had once forgotten. Had once known when he was a machine.

Nines didn’t see his human get back up. He didn’t see that the bullet simply went through his shoulder. No, all he saw was the gun being drawn again. He stared at the unmoving body of Detective Gavin Reed. His partner. His friend.

No, no, _no_...

The panic clasped hands with something hot. Something dangerous. Uncontrolled and familiar. It made his body shiver.

RK900's LED pulsed a solid red. His body coiled tight and his hands clenched into fists. He moved to his own accord. He broke the chair he was bound to easily, the rotten wood cracking into splinters. The humans turned to look at him in shock, including the one ready to blow his partner's head.

A shot rang out, and it hit his chest. Damage reports of a biocomponent were dismissed. Nothing he couldn't bear. The android stood there in the middle of the room, casually shaking off the remaining piece of wood. The ropes around his ankles remained tight, and his arms were clasped in front of himself as if he were standing politely and obediently before his superior.

He kicked out one leg snapping the rope as if made from paper. People forgot just how strong he was. How much of it he held back. How much his model demanded such strength.

"What the fuck!" He charged at the one that dared to harm his partner, dared to draw his weapon upon himself.

_Anger._

RK900 wrapped his arms around the perp’s arm and twisted it back. A bark of pain left him as the arm was rendered useless. RK900 ripped the gun from his weakened grip while the arm flopped uselessly over his own and spun around.

He took aim at his face and fired, brain and bone matter splattering his companion with a wet slap.

He trading the reminder he was facing against an RK900 android to back away in shock and disgust. The perfected deadlier version of what the RK800 could have been if it weren't for human flaw. Mix the fatal accuracy and execution of the military android with unpredictable emotions, and the result was detrimental.

His face did not betray the storming emotions inside of him. No remorse, no second thoughts as he turned to face the other.

A bullet fired into his back, but the pain wasn't registered. It was merely a nuisance. He turned to face him.

_Desperation._

Horror took over the man's determined expression. Though unlike the other, he refocused his attention to bring him down. He narrowed his eyes, determining the outcome of his actions. RK900 lifted the body in his grasp that struggled, realizing his fate.

The perp fired continuously.

RK900 approached the foolish human with determined, steady strides.

He kept firing into his companion one after another bullet hoping to take him down to no avail. Wet splotches of red soaked his pristine white uniform.

The weapon clicked empty. He acted. The android tossed the body away, the body hitting the floorboards with a lifeless thud. The wood greedily drank the crimson. The human tossed the empty gun aside and gripped a blade from his belt. He raised it before him, teeth bared in determination. He was braver than the other two it would seem. It humored him, but that wouldn't slow him down. Nothing could stop the RK900 unit when the order had been given. Continuously, RK900 predicted the outcomes of such an unpredictable creature before him.

The human charged him messily.

The android stood his ground, holstering Gavin's Glock. He crashed his forehead into his head. A crack echoed in the room. He was left with a patch of broken artificial skin and plastimetal. The human, however, received a dangerous fracture of his frontal lobe. The human drew his hand up to his forehead, dropping the knife that landed edge first into the rotten floorboards.

He would not stop until all targets were immobilized.

The android took the last step forward, looped his arms around his neck, and stood behind him. The human realized his terrible fate.

RK900 pulled, the ropes biting into the soft flesh of his neck. He watched as the tendons and muscles underneath flexed and moved as desperate breathes were taken. Breaths that were counted and calculated and watched with deadly sharpened eyes. RK900's body held still. A quake nor shiver moved him as the human in his clutch struggled against the rope that cut into his throat.

Foamed saliva tricked at the sides of bluing lips.

Relentlessly, the android held him until the struggles became weaker. His hands messily gripped at his wrists and eventually loosened. But that wasn't enough, was it? The opportunity of feeling the specific satisfaction he craved deep down was almost gone. He wanted the human to feel his death slip from his hold and then-. He broke his facade for a livid sneer, harshly cracking his neck.

The body went limp, arms falling to his side and body lolling against his grasp. RK900 dropped him to the ground looking down at him under his nose. As soon as it began, it was all over. The room was quiet. All that stirred was the disturbed layer of dust upon the floor dancing in sunbeams.

_Satisfaction._

So. This is what he felt as he observed his work. What he felt as he looked down to his hands and body covered in blue and red. RK900 looked around the room upon the art he had-

And then clarity came like a rubber band snapping in two. He stumbled, holding the heel of his hand to his eye. Confusion inched at his eyebrows as he took the hand away. They shook when red was staining them. "What…?"

Nines looked around the room that was home to four twisted dead bodies. His LED swam red, and he backed away. If he had a stomach, it would be rolling in nausea, but somehow that's what he felt.

Nines closed his eyes, looking away from the twisted bodies around. What had been done was done. There was no denying what he was.

“H-hey Nines?” Gavin’s gasping breath made him look away and toward the human that mattered the most to him.

He was alive.

“Remind me t’ not piss y’ off.”

_Alive. _

Cold relief flooded the fire in his veins. His sins didn't matter. The consequences would come later, and honestly, he couldn't wait. What he had done was...horrific.

For now, Gavin was his main objective. He collected the knife that was in the floorboard and was quickly by his partners' side. He cut his ropes that bound his wrists together.

"You do so on the daily detective." The android attempted at a joke, but it came out dry and desperate. He tossed the ropes away and pressed one hand into the wound in his shoulder. The other arm lifted him to sit him against the doorway more comfortably. His LED continued to spin red as blood gushed from between his fingers.

“S-so...lotta blood,” Gavin observed. “Lotsa blood...”

Yes, too much, all too much. He didn't know why, and the only way to do so-.

Nines ticked his head, giving an apologetic glance to his partner before taking a lick of the crimson soaked hand.

“Ugh, fucking a...” Gavin groaned in disgust.

Data immediately flooded his vision form the sample, and his eyebrows creased upon the results.

Gavin was delirious, yet his scans showed his heart was racing at an alarming rate. Worried gray eyes flicked over his body, one hand trailing along his limbs to check for other bodily injuries.

“The fuck did they hit me with, babe?” His partner murmured.

“A street form of ketamine. Your body is trying to counteract it naturally.” His eyes looked back up to tired ones.

Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, and yet he was immobile.

“Oh. Cool.” He didn’t understand a damn thing.

Even if he was in such a terrible state, his mind raced, and his body reacted slowly to the state of his partner. A shaky hand was raised to reach for him. Nines took it gently, stroking his thumb over the back of his hand. "D'ya anything to ya?"

Nines flinched at the question. It was nothing compared to what he had done. He sagged his shoulders in exasperation. “Just some plastimetal cracking and damage to my spinal strut. I’m fine.” He wouldn’t list all of his damage purposely.

Nines brought his hand to his lips and kept them there. He was just glad that his human was alright. He drew his hand away. “You were foolish to come find me. I was waiting for the right moment to come for you.”

“Yeh, well, t’ too long.” He drawled. “Worried f’ you. Bastards fuckin’-.” But he didn’t get the chance to finish his threat when a wave of nausea hit him. Nines held him steadily, lips turning into a firm line. He needed help. Fast.

Gavin shrugged his bad shoulder and winced. “S’ what now?”

“I contacted dispatch earlier." Nines paused upon the incomplete answer and faced the truth. He wanted to get out of this room that smelled of death and blood. A human may not have been able to smell it, but he could.

"Prevent you from bleeding out and getting out of here alive. For now. I'm all you have, detective." He situated himself by his side, looping an arm around his neck.

“F-fine by me. Jus’ glad you’re ‘ere. An’ okay.”

A sad smile crossed his lips, and with ease and gentle as possible motions, he lifted him to his feet. Gavin grunted and moaned upon the shifting, and Nines apologized with murmured loving words. A hand remained pressed to his shoulder.

Tentatively he turned and began their track down the hallway, leaving behind the sight the was glad Gavin couldn't understand fully. If he had seen what he had done in a coherent state, he wouldn't think he would want to be this close to him.

It was silent except for the haggard breathing of his human. He looked to him and didn’t like the color that his skin had taken on. It was pale and sprinkled with beads of sweat. He wouldn’t last long.

“How are you holding up?" They made it to the stairs, but Gavin's legs gave out just as he was about to descend. Nines fell with him holding him as steady as possible.

"M' fine fine" He wasn't fine. As he breathed, his face twisted into pain. He swallowed, harshly, his voice taking on a raw tone. "...just...tired and excited?" He scrunched his face in confusion at his own words. His eyes lulled closed.

Familiar raw panic set in. He slapped his cheek, and immediately he woke back up.

“We have to keep moving, detective." Nines instructed though he was starting to feel helpless. Outside, the sound of emergency sirens wailed. Much needed hope rose in his chest.

There was no time to ask for permission. He took his human by under his legs and cradled his back comfortably, lifting him bridal style. Nines secured him to his chest and descended the stairs, careful not to jostle the human.

Outside, the sirens became louder, and his thirium pump raced to make it outside. The quicker he was in emergency care, the higher of a chance he had to live. The opposite possibility was not an outcome as long as Nines remained in control of these preconstructions. He elbowed the dilapidated front door open and rushed outside. The paramedics, an android and human, were already rushing for the back of the vehicle.

“You're alright now. You’re okay.” Nines murmured as the gurney was hurriedly taken out of the ambulance.

“Cool...” He drunkenly replied. Already was Nines reaching out with his hand to make a connection with the android to list all of his vitals and symptoms. As soon as the connection was made, it was broken, and he placed his partner upon the soft cushion of the gurney.

“We have it from here.” The android nodded firmly once.

Nines placed a hand on his forehead. “Just stay awake. They’ll take care of you.”

“Oh, trus’ me feel like m’ heart gonna explode or s’methin’.”

“Right, right.” Nines nodded with a watery smile. Already were they securing him and rolling him away. Nines remained where he was, his hand falling away from his human.

The android watched as the ambulance drove his partner away.


	14. Tear Stained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sixty gets locked in a dream about his past and does some harm…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> two weeks in and almost halfway through babes! (also some of you may notice these observation notes may be familiar from another fic of mine ;))

Warnings: Blood. Violence

Characters: Sixty, Nines, Connor, Hank, Sumo

* * *

The android would never get used to the fact that his past memories would resurface through dreams at night. Sixty was an experimentation. A plaything for scientists and developers to see how many modifications and features they could add to the RK800 model before it would face the metaphorical blue screen.

It was in his third week of being alive he had found out the truth from a corrupted file his brother had discovered:

_Observation Notes: favorable response to Amanda. No direct signs of disobedience._

_ Test 10: External stimulus including yet not limited to positive and negative influence such as pain, sexual arousal, environmental terrain and climates, combat, and or body mutilation. _

_ Test 19: manipulatioNNN_

_ Test 20: response to environmental change_

_ Test 40: Additional sensitivity added to senses_

_ Test 65: knowledge of environmental weapon usage  
Observation notes: Creative knowledge of using environmental items to use with harmful intention is expansive. Casualties: 7. Immediate action not taken. Data has not been deleted. _

_ Test 66: knowledge of man made weapon usage_

_Observation notes: Effective use of downloaded database of weapon usage, accuracy 99.8. ToTAl Casualty Count: 15. Immediate action notnotnot taken. further testing: >>>green-light/ _

And so on and so forth. Again. And Again. The dreams of needles and probes. The sensations of drowning and having lungs filled with too much air. The feeling of pain and pain and pain and-

The lack of proper recharge was affecting him. And no one seemed to notice.

One night, the exhaustion was just too much. He had fallen into an emergency stasis. While the Anderson Household was still awake, Sixty slumbered a restless sleep.

Files began to corrupt and overlap. A hidden software was roused from the hidden depths of archived files.

_>>>Test 20: reVis3d_

313 248 317-60 woke with a start, his eyes widened before relaxing, scanning the room around him. It was white. Painfully clean and painfully blinding white.

The white walls were suddenly pixelated triangles peeling away to reveal the dark room he had been once slumbering in.

_>>>destroy designated targets._

A voice from beyond rumbled. A laugh barked out.

Three targets.

Sixty rose from the twin-sized bed with smooth and slow motions, not to make a sound to alert the bodies highlighted in muted blue beyond the walls that held him.

He opened the door to the bedroom he had been contained in. A setup, no doubt, orchestrated by the scientists that controlled and tested him. He had to obey.

_“Sumo no! Down.” _Another voice ordered. A bark. Another target was added. A Saint Bernard. A beast of a dog but older. It would be a minimal threat.

“God, if he gets ahold of that, he'll throw up all over the couch again." The voice was clearer this time, no longer muffled by the walls. It was raspy yet loud.

“Sumo is a good boy, aren’t you?” A voice that sounded oddly like his own called back to the seasoned one.

He slunk down the hallway identifying the targets now.

Their names scrolled into his vision, sorting them by threat levels. Damage would be done to his chassis. But such setbacks were nothing so long as he completed his mission. And when he completed his mission, he would be thrown into another environment, he would have to successfully solve.

If not, they would dig into his mind, sort through the programs with brutish hands and eager ideas. He would lay upon the cold table. Awake or asleep. He felt their proddings either way.

The first target was the RK900 model. A model that replaced the prior RK800 series. He would be the strongest. But perhaps...

The human would come first. They were so delicate, after all. One blow, and it could be left to die on the floor. It would be easy.

Sharply focused eyes slid to the kitchen counter nearby. In a vase filled with pens and markers, rested a heavy letter opener.

It was the only weapon he could improvise, and that was within reach. It held a sharp edge, but with enough force, it could burrow into the plastimetal of an android.

It would slice flesh easily.

Slowly and carefully, he made his way towards the androids, human, and beast as they continued to speak of this "Sixty". He crouched low spinning the letter opener in hand so that it rested comfortable and just so, right in his palm.

313 248 317-51 was the first to notice him. “Sixty? What are you doing back up? Are you feeling better?”

Hank scooped another tortilla chip fulled with salsa. Who he assumed was Sumo followed the hand with concentration just as intense as his own. “Hey kid, the gears are winning!” A beer was taken to his lips.

_>>>“You are allowed two tonight." _

A voice that wasn’t his own mocked his mind. Was it a glitch? He forcefully and quickly dismissed it just as fast as it came.

“Sixty?” The 313 248 317-87 spoke to him in familiar concern.   
>>>Situation in danger

>>>T4K3 4CT10N >>>!

He charged forward, his expression remained stoic to the task at hand. He went for the human.

During a commercial break, they spoke in low murmured voices. They turned concerned when the topic regarded Sixty.

“There’s nothing that can be done for the memory relapses.” Nines supplied sipping at a packet of chilled thirium. “It’s how we process through corrupted memories, bad parcels of additional information or stimuli.”

“The only way to solve his troubles would be to delete them.” Connor piped up from the floor. He was sitting with his legs crossed, preventing the dog from eating the chips and salsa Hank was snacking on.

Hank chew and swallowed the bite. “The kid doesn't want that." He shook his head, wiping the crumbs on his fingers on his pants. He chased the snack with a sip from his beer.

“Maybe he’ll get some rest tonight, kid s’been having a rough time...”

Nines sighed, agreeing.

From behind, the floor creaked. Nines looked up, his eyebrows pinching in concern. “Sixty?” Against the flickering light of the television stood the said android. “What are you doing back up? Are you feeling better?”

Hank scooped another tortilla chip filled with salsa. Connor gently pulled at Sumo’s collar as he followed the hand with concentration.

Hank looked over his shoulder “Hey kid, the gears are winning!” He sipped at his beer.

Something wasn’t right. Nines was the first to notice. “Sixty?” Nines rose from the recliner head tilting to reveal a swirling yellow LED.

Hank lowered the beer upon the worried tone his brother took on.

Something sharp glinting in the dim lighting from the television was the only warning.

Sixty had charged, his intent focused on Hank. Harshly, he gripped the old man by under his chin and pulled his head back, revealing his neck. The beer was dropped and spilled upon the floor.

Sumo growled and barked.

“Sixty!”

Nines had charged into the android just as the blade was pressed into skin. His hands were ripped away, freeing the man.

Hank stood, turning to face the android, pressing a hand to the cut that bled from his neck. "Sixty what the fuck?!" Connor moved to stand in front of Hank, arm out protectively.

Nines slammed him into the opposite wall of the living room, pinning him and his arm that held the bloodied letter opener with a deadly grip. "Sixty, what do you think you are doing?!" Nines face twisted in betrayal, anger, and concern.

Behind Connor turned towards Hank. “Are you okay?” Connor murmured.

“I’m fine, fuck...” The old man looked up more so in worry than anger.

The room grew cold and silent upon Sixty’s words.

“I don’t know who Sixty is. I am not Sixty.” He replied evenly.

The pained expression upon Nine’s face morphed into confusion, his grip weakened ever so slightly. It was a moment of hesitation Sixty needed to knee the android in the stomach and push him back. Sixty threw his arm in a wide arc. The letter opener had sliced across the android’s face. Nines gasped at the blow.

The extended cut began at his chin, across his nose, right eye, and ended at his forehead. Artificial skin broke away for white plastimetal underneath.

Nines stumbled away, bowing over as he cradling his bleeding face.

Connor abandoned his protective stance in front of Hank as soon as Sixty made a move to attack Nines again.

“No, snap out of it!” Connor barked. His LED swam a panicked red and yellow. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

“You are stopping the inevitable.” His cool voice claimed as a harsh blow was cracked across his jaw. He gripped the android by his shoulders and slammed his knee upward into his chest. A pained grunt escaped the android. He took a stumbled step backward.

The room became still again as Sixty asses the situation with cold and sharpened brow eyes. Apparently, it was proving difficult for the android to take down his targets more so than he initially thought.

“Inevitable…?” Nines echoed. He stood up once again, the right eye a milky white from the damage.

Connor didn’t make a move to attack unless Sixty did. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I am functioning properly," Sixty observed to himself. "The test will be completed."

“Test?” Connor’s eyebrows pinched in confusion.

The two brothers looked at one another. It was Nines that said it aloud.

“He’s locked in a dream.”

“No, a memory.”

Hank shook his head, his voice loud. “That makes him go crazy?”

The loud voice was enough for Sixty to attack. It was as if the prey had suddenly moved, and the predator had to strike before it's meal was lost.

“Connor, get him under control now!" Hank ordered. “I’m in no mood to deal with a tornado in my living room!”

The android had wrapped his arms around his brother from behind, pulling him back. He dodged the knife as Sixty waved it wildly.

“Sixty! Snap out of it! You’re home! You’re safe!”

The crazed android turned in his grasp, elbowing him in the face. He pinned the android against the wall, but in doing so, Connor took the opportunity to interface with his brother.

Connor’s hand was the first to bleed white and glow. “Come back to us.” He gritted. He forced the connection as much as he could through strong firewalls and chaotic commands that scrolled endlessly.

But he was thrown out. Sixty was free once more. He raised the knife and held it with a clenched fist. It moved with impatient intent.

A pained grunt left Connor. The air went silent. Shakily Connor looked down to his shoulder, where the blade was delved into him to the hilt. His hand was glowing blue once more, and so was Sixty's. The youngest brother finally succumbed.

Sixty’s hand peeled back to reveal white plastimetal underneath.

Among the firm and steady commands, behind the heavy _need _to eliminate all threats using the environment, he felt pain. Pain not of his own.

He was lost to the white of the cyberlife lab, lost in the fear to fail, lost in the dream that had him trapped against his will. Against the white walls, he heard his family confront him, helpless to fight against the commands, powerless to stop his own actions. In the end, he was weak against his creators. Even if Cyberlife was gone, he would forever be their puppet attached to their strings.

A burn came to his eyes as clarity came with each weary blink. His body relaxed. His nerves calmed, and his mind became less cluttered.

Brown, lost, eyes followed to the tight grip he felt in his hand. He wish he hadn't. rA9 he wish he hadn't. Horror crossed his face as his grip lessened, and his hand began to shake.

“Oh God. Con...Connor, I..."

Commands forced their way through the interface, blocking the connection from his brother. Pleading eyes looked into similar brown. "They're taking over again. You need to get away! I can't stop them!" Despite how hard he tried to keep his voice firm and authoritative, his body trembled violently. But instead of doing as he warned, his brother wrapped his arms around him and held him. Tightly.

Slowly, thirium began to stain the jersey he had worn for watching tonights’ game. Sixty closed his eyes, fighting a shaky hand that raised to grip the knife again. “P-Please...”

Besides them, Nines took the remaining bounds towards the duo. Above where Connor held Sixty's wrist, he too made a forced interface. Sixty whimpered upon the intrusion bowing his head forward into the crook of Connor's neck.

After but a moment of ice run through his veins, commands, and programs disintegrated into nothing as Cyberlife’s strings were cut by the superior RK unit among them.

"We have you," Nines promised. "It's alright."

Sixty dropped his hand to his side and looked at his brother upon the large gash across his face.

Tears spilled forth. "I'm...I..." The flood came through. The one thing that they couldn't take away from Sixty was the ability to feel his emotions with such intensity. It's what made him alive. He looked around the room. "Hank? Hank? Is he? Did I?" As he panicked, he felt Nines swim through his mind, closing all the doors that lead to the haywire commands. His eyes had closed in concentration. Connor remained connected to his brother in need, as well.

Tears rolled down his cheeks in heavy streams staining his shirt with the equally heavy drops.

“I'm here, kid." He stepped forward and made sure to hide the blood with a hand against his neck. "Nothing bad." He explained.

Sobs wrecked from his lips, and suddenly, like a computer had been forced to shut off, Sixty's body went limp.

Connor yelled out in alarm.

Nines took his brother from under his arms and sighed. He opened his eyes. "It's alright, I manually placed him in stasis. I implemented a program to halt all running programs and background commands so he could get some rest and properly sort through the memories he was currently working through. He'll be alright."

He placed a hand on his forehead to steady the youngest brother. “Connor,” he nodded towards the knife in his shoulder.

“I’m fine.”

“There's a first aid kit in the bathroom, under the sink," Hank said. "We are more than not fine." He huffed.

Sumo finally came out from hiding and lobbed his way over to his master with a whine. “It’s okay, big guy. Just another night at the Andersons...”

He flicked his gaze from Nines to Connor and then to he android resting on the floor with a wary glance.


	15. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like an adventurer setting out on his journey, Nines followed the map that was Gavin’s skin. The canvas that the art rested and settled upon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> Wrote this one to "Make Love" by Daft Punk <3

Warnings: Sexually explicit, mentions of substance abuse and abuse, depression, and self-harm.

Characters: Gavin, Nines

* * *

It was after they had made love, Nines held his humans close to his chest in this moment of languid drunk hazy peace. Their bodies were perfectly intertwined and molded to one another. Like pieces of a puzzle, they fit perfectly. Nines wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here. His eyes flicked over his human.

Gavin was his. And no matter what, he would always be his. Even when he spat and cursed. Blew smoke in his face and threw those rare blows. Gavin would always be his because deep down, he loved him. He confessed this only a few weeks ago. Afterward, they made love to one another, truly felt one another as a whole.

Even if Gavin wasn’t a good teacher, Nines was learning what being deviant meant, what being alive meant. Because if it weren’t for Gavin, he wouldn’t be alive.

If he had known what he knew now...perhaps deviancy wouldn’t have been such a looming threat.

“You alright, tin can?”

“Hmn?” Nines wrapped his arm more securely around his chest. “Of course, why you say that?”

Gavin ticked his head backward. "You're quiet."

“Merely enjoying the moment.” He rumbled, kissing the crook of his neck. Gavin smiled, a soft chuckle leaving him. Nines pulled away, a hint of a curve to his lips as well. He was content to be here. It felt right. It felt…

His eyes drew towards a thin white mark across his shoulder, halting his inner musings. He hadn’t made it the topic of a conversation yet, but his partner was a canvas written with many stories.

Unlike androids, humans scarred rather easily. And behind each mismatched, discolored, bumpy or smoothed, shiny surface was a secret that only the bearer could tell.

Nines knew Gavin was a survivor. He was rough around the edges to the point where he continued to cut himself on them. He was curt, caustic, crude, and downright miserable. But Nines always saw past this. He was loyal, brave, smart, and honorable. He was sweet with his words when he wanted to be even in the public's eye. He wasn't embarrassed by him and Nines being together. He was proud of them. He made sure that wherever they went, their presence was known. They were unmatched in talent and skill as a duo.

But despite all his faults, vices, or virtues, He never heard the whole story of how Detective Gavin Reed became to be.

So, lovingly, the android pressed his lips to the long white line that went across his shoulder. He gently placed his lips in one spot for a few moments before they continued the trail.

Gavin remained silent and still until a defeated sign left him. “Dislocated and fucked up my shoulder in varsity football. They had to go in and clean out the bone spurs later on. Didn’t hurt that much.” He shrugged it. A habit Nines had learned he performed when something was, after all, a big deal. He could read his gestures like a book.

Nines hummed, his LED casting a gentle blue upon tanned skin. He lowered himself to his shoulder blade, a hand drifting across his skin. His human visibly shivered. Another scar wasn’t far behind. He found a healed over bullet wound. Gavin's breath hitched.

He knew what that one was.   
“November, guy robbed a bank. Got lucky. Around when I first started. Hurt pretty bad.”

Gavin turned onto his back and looked up to his android. His eyes flicked across his face. "What are you doing?" He wasn't angry. He was...annoyed, maybe a bit heated.

Nines easily untangled himself from his human and was content to lay over him. He lifted himself up onto one hand, the other gently gliding across his chest. "I want to know you more. You know everything about me." It was enough of an excuse.

The eyes narrowed caustically. “Fucking sap." Gavin tisked, slapping his hand away. And right there, the walls that Nines had seen countless times, walls that snapped into place right as he got too close, were raised. He had drawn too close and he was shut out.

But behind the heated curse, he had left an opening, it was left open purposely this time around. He could have told him to go home. Or to go to sleep. But he didn't. He only retreated barely some. He sat at the edge of the bed, looking at his reflection in the floor to ceiling window of his bedroom.

Nines looked at him through the glass. His head ticked upwards in pride at the sight of his human.

His body was perfect, sculpted, and in peak condition. Under such relaxed work clothes, no one would assume he would be so fit. His abs were sculpted, glistening with sweat. The muscles in his legs shifting as he became comfortable.

Gavin was living. If Nines were to stand by him, he would not have moving muscles nor the tendons and veins that fleshed a human. He would have mere smooth surfaces, too perfect to be human. An LED that lit brightly in the dusty darkness of Gavin’s bedroom continued to glow steadily.

He couldn’t fight the breathy laugh from his lips. He was too in love with his human.

Gavin was but throwing a silent temper tantrum wanting the android to play his game. Wanting him to pry and deem him worthy of his secrets.

How he could ever love an android like he, a kind that he once hated and not slightly tolerated, was beyond him. Nines shifted towards him so that he sat behind him, folded legs resting on either side of his hips, his still hardened length pressed into the divot of his lower back. He continued to swim in the pleasant buzz that was left in his struts. He pressed his body close to Gavin's, whispering his lips across soft flesh of his own.

“Let me in, Detective.”

A hand drew up along his spine while the other was placed to cup his cheek. His hands weren't ripped away, nor was his touch denied. The human did not stand up and explode with rage. He gave into the touches as if in relief. His silent cry for comfort was translated and heard loud and clear. But of course, it was.

Who would Nines be to disregard and be so out of tune with his wants and needs?

Gavin turned his head to kiss the soft palms of the android's hand as they glowed a faint blue. He craved the touch of another android, but sadly Gavin wasn't the one who could give such affections to him. And that was alright with him.

His skin and face flushed red upon his other hand finding its way from his spine, trailing over his shoulder to his back, barely-there touches sending shivers through his body and the hairs to raise upon his arms.

Like an adventurer setting out on his journey, Nines followed the map that was Gavin’s skin. The canvas that the art rested and settled upon. His hand looped around pressing into a scar that delved deep into his lower pelvis.

Gavin gasped, leaning back into his android. "Knife fight, I was...I was young. Needed the fix..."

“You were a troubled child?” He assumed.

“Parents weren’t around.” He murmured. “Mom was but, not entirely. She liked her vices too. Like me.”

Nines kissed his shoulder gently, his eyes closing. There was no need to see, only feel. His hands were his eyes mapping out his love’s imperfectly perfect body. Another bullet wound. Another injury on duty.

A bump beneath the surface along his hip. A motorbike accident when he was in the academy.

His hand circled to his thigh, finding another.

“Girlfriend. I don’t...want to talk about that. I kinda deserved that one.”

“Tell me,” The android prompted into his ear. Gavin shivered upon the voice so close.

His hand that was pressed into his cheek was released and was given permission to fall once again to his body. It traveled lower and lower until it cupped his soft member.

“She walked in on me fucking her brother. Got mad. Stabbed me with my own switchblade."

“And this one?" Nines' hand went to his knee.

His breath hitched upon the motions. “Same motorbike accident.” His hand came to the one holding him so tenderly in a loose fist. Nines opened his eyes and finally used them to confirm his assumptions.

“Your wrists.”

No answer. His motions stopped.

“Your arms.”

“I..I..okay no...enough." Gavin struggled to get free from his android's hold, but he did not allow him too. "I think you should-." His voice cracked and gave way. Nines had never heard his usually cocky and strong voice so unsure and weak. But he knew what it meant. He drew too close to the core. He could be vulnerable in the flesh, but emotionally, it became too much.

“I love you." Nines reminded him, drawing him close to his body. "No matter what, Gavin. I love you for everything you are and have been."

Gavin’s breath hitched ever so slightly as a breath was pulled into his chest.

His free hand trailed back up to his face covering his eyes, his hand stroking him gently and slowly.

“If you had not gone through such trials and victories...I would not be here. I would not be alive. I would not have been able to love you as I do now.”

His breath became unsteady and shaky, from the torture of his cock or from his emotions. Nines wasn't sure, but he was determined to continue. Gavin hadn't pulled away or protested. "Let me ask one more burning question, my love."

A whimper escaped trembling lips.

“Your scar on your nose.”

“F-fuck Nines...” His voice was uneven and shaky. “It was a bar fight.”

With that, the android chuckled in his ear and forced him to turn his head to kiss his human upon his lips. Feverishly and desperately, he turned, arms looping around his neck to bring them impossibly closer.

A sound, broken, and needy left the detective as he pressed his tongue into his mouth. Nines returned the love just as needily.

Everything that Gavin was and is made him impossibly happy.

“I fucking love you.” Gavin broke away with a gasp cupping his neck with both his hands. Nines continued to stroke Gavin’s length, finally hardening once again. He watched in the window as his human became undone once again. Widening his hips to relish the pleasure.

He forced his fingers to intermingle with his own, hot to the touch, and drew them above and behind his head.

The night was theirs to love as Nines worshiped him endlessly.


	16. Pinned Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sixty has a crush on Captain Allen. No he doesn't. Yes he does. Fuck. He has to save him doesn't he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> I want to take the time for all of you guys reading and sending kudos my way. Maybe I can get to 100 by the end of this madness? <3

Warnings: Violence, swearing, Sixty’s fucking antics, blood.

Characters: Captain Allen, Sixty

* * *

Captain Allen was on his mind since the day he had met him. Officially. Sure he had seen him before in the precinct talking to Fowler. And maybe he had passed him in the hall. But he never really, really took notice of him. He and Connor were backup for his team, responding to a stakeout. He was five foot nine of muscle with a take no shit attitude. Sixty fucking loved it. He might have loved him already.

It was afterward when all was said and done and the more than troublesome protesters were cuffed or taken down, he had come face to face with him. A few words were exchanged alongside his brother Connor. Surprisingly enough, he did most of the talking for those first moments.

It was then when he shook hands with him he broke out of his unusual quiet stupor. Not moments prior had he saved one of his men. The gesture was genuine but he could tell those green eyes held wavering trust. He didn’t hide it well or didn’t bother to. Either way Sixty respected both possibilities. He lowered his hand but Sixty didn’t, holding it in place between them. If he still had his LED it would have been a swimmingly awkward yellow.

“Just when I thought one was enough.” His thoughts were interrupted by his scratchy yet muffled-like voice. He realized he was talking to him, thumbs hooking on his tactical vest. He raised an eyebrow when he didn’t react right away. Sixty drew his hand back finally.

“Yeah, well,” a cheap laugh followed after. “That’s what your mom said.”

Captain Allen didn’t enjoy the joke as much as he though he would. Instead he eyes him more warily. “...Right. Sixty was it?”

“Yeah the better one.”

He realized right away that he didn’t like the jokes so why did he continue to crack the jokes? Stop with the damned jokes.

“Thanks for the assist. If it weren’t for you Jerold wouldn’t have gone home tonight.” It was a genuine thank you and Sixty realized how much it took for him to come to terms to say it out loud. From the story of Connor’s first meeting with him he was rather abrasive. An asshole for short.

But his bigotry towards androids had lessened to something more bearable, such as a strong loofah of sorts.

Sixty’s lips went into a firm line. If there was plaything he believed it was doing good and protecting whomever held up that virtue. Captain Allen upheld this virtue just as highly as he. No man was left behind today. Sixty appreciated that.

He appreciated the genuine attempt of reaching out the olive branch.

“Of course. If you...if you need help anytime,” He exchanged a glance from his brother to the human and nodded. “Yeah, give us a call.” He reached forward and clapped him on the shoulder in an awkward manner that had him cringing at himself.

Why was he such a damned fool?

The human looked down to his shoulder and then back up to Sixty. “Right...” He took a few steps backwards. “Goodnight...” He turned on his heel.

Sixty waved after him dumbly as he walked away. Along with his almost six foot stature he had a rather nice ass as well.

Sixty sat at his desk balancing a pencil atop his nose, eyebrows scrunched in thought as he listened to the radio chatter of their precinct. Monitor duty was always as fun as it sounded. He had to bite his tongue to prevent him from cracking inappropriate jokes and quips.

The first time he did so had him bent over Fowler's desk for a good ass whooping. Not literally just a good tongue lashing and maybe a few heated words from Hank as well.

The radio chatter had soon become background noise as he delved deeper and deeper into his thoughts. Captain Allen’s words remained at the forefront. Why did this human interest him so much?

He was just another human. Well, not just any human he supposed. The fucker’s squad practically had the highest success rates.

He went home to his modest apartment in the uppity side of town and enjoyed football with his team members. He liked his beer ice fucking cold and greasy bar food from time to time. His favorite meal was steak medium rare.

He had done his research. Research being stalking. No, it was just investigative work was all. That’s all it was. He always hung back and he meant no harm just. He was so fucking curious about him. Those sharp green eyes were so expressive yet his face always remained so stoic.

Was it his perfect ass he liked?

Or was it the fact Allen had jumped in the line of fire to cover _his_ ass when he dragged his teammate Jerold to cover?

He didn’t think twice about the possibility of taking fire from a gang of dangerous anti-android protesters. When he had landed next to him in their cover he had done so on top of him. Jerold coughing and blabbering out panicked words of thanks as he bled out. He would live.

_“_ _You good, robot?”_

_ “Fine as I’ll ever be, human.”_

_ “Good, I owe you one.”_

It was an innocent moment. Something out of a fucking movie or World War Two video game. It was just happenstance nothing more. Just two bros sharing cover like two bros should when in the line of dangerous fire.

Yeah...

The radios chatter suddenly was flooded with static, the sudden noise making Sixty jump, sending his pencil in his lap. A voice that plagued his every thought crackled through the radio.

It was Captain Allen’s voice. Every other word was heard and broken as his distressed voice came through.

Sixty leaned forward in his chair looking around if anyone else heard what he was hearing.

“_...__backup now_!”

It was the last of his voice until another officers voice came through clear as day reporting back from a granny who lost their cat in a tree. A chill ran up his spine. Usually that never happened.

Earlier today the android had heard commotion of an active shooter in progress. A few teams of their men had been dispatched to handle the situation. But if Allen was called in the situation must have gone south. Had it escalated that much? Why hadn’t anyone notified him? He was always called into these situations!

Sixty was brought in when all hell broke loose. He was the last resort when all else failed. Send in Sixty to take them down! And like always, he did. By any means necessary. He was the ace up DPD’s sleeve when no one else could do the dirty work. With a smile Sixty could take a few bullets or a broken limb and have the perp crying for mercy as he brought them out. Dead or Alive.

Sixty was a nightmare when he wanted to be. And that’s what made him their secret weapon.

“Hey, you.” Sixty stood up from his chair pointing an an officer who was paging through manila folders. “Heard anything from the team taking on the active shoot on Porter?”

“Shit yeah, they’re at a stand off right now. Sent in Allen’s men. It should be over with by now.” He was on his marry way. Everyone was going on their business and the digital board above declared the mission was successful.

But Allen was calling for backup.

What _the fuck_ was going on?  
There was a miscommunication. Big time. Someone dropped the ball on this one. And Allen’s life was on the line.

_“_ _I owe you one.”_

He left his post, running towards the bullpen exit.

No, Sixty was the one who owed him.

Captain Allen placed his head against the concrete wall and closed his eyes as another wave of dizziness came over him. “Shit. _Damnit_!” The Captain holstered his radio against his chest and clutched his rifle with a firmer grip. Someone dropped the ball in the communication department. His team was scattered now. Someone called in that the situation was under control and that the units could back out. Whoever got a hold of dispatch would meet his steel toe boot up their ass and then some.

The shooter was still in the building and still at large. As a matter of fact he was sure he was in this very room. The order to take him down was still in place whether the person who called off the mission liked it or not. They had killed more than twelve people and injured more.

He had almost taken him down.

If everything had gone according to plan without the miscommunication. Fuck, he would have probably been home watching the game with an ice cold beer to his lips.

His breathing hitched and he opened his eyes again. He had been shot once. Even with Kevlar, it still hurt like a son of a bitch. Bastard had a shotgun too.

The blow had knocked him flat on his ass, his head pounding from his head knocking againt the wall. If he wanted to, he could have looked to see if he left a hold in the fucking drywall.

“Put your gun down!” He called out, his voice scratchy and heavy along with his breathing. “We can work something out!”

There was no answer like the last time. He’d wish the guy would stop toying with him. His head already hurt as it was. His chest ached with every breath he took in. He could move from this spot and end up getting shot. Or he could stay and have the guy hunt him down. Either way he was pinned.

“Fuck...” He rasped.

As soon as Sixty arrived on scene, he approached the nearest officer.

“Who’s in charge?”

The woman pointed to a cop who was more than comfortable sitting on the sidelines. A rather large fellow who could lay off the donuts.

He patted her shoulder in thanks and made his way over.

“What’s goin’ on, chief?” He asked looking at the entrance to the office building.

He eyed him up and down and huffed a chuckle. “Wouldn’t you like to know, buddy?” He stuck his thumbs into his pockets looking back at the building as if he was ordered to.

Sixty nodded with a silent and annoyed “okay” poking his tongue into his cheek. Sixty gritted his teeth and moved with aggression. He gripped the fat bastard by the lapels of his jacket, fury in his eyes. He had no time to fuck around. Good peoples’ lives were on the line.

“As a matter of fact I do, cop boy. So again, what’s the situation?!”

“Hey, hey! Easy! Okay!” He raised his hands up in a placating manner. He didn’t want to, but reluctantly he shoved the officer away allowing him to talk. “Jesus...” The human growled fixing his jacket. “We were told to back out. That the shooter was taken down. We’re waiting for rescue squads to head in and-.”

A frustrated groan left him as he asked the question no one had the answer to. “Who was the one that gave that _fucking_ order?”

“We presumed someone on Captain Allen’s team...?” He shook his head reproaching Sixty. Upon the step forward, the android raised an eyebrow leveling him with a good look up and down. “Look, I’m just doing my job, okay, buddy?”

“We as in _you_. _You_ fucked up because the Captain is still inside and pinned down!” Sixty pointed a finger into his face. “And call me buddy one more time and I’ll have your glock shoved so far up your ass you cum on it.”

Nervousness was traded for confusion. “Wait...what?”

Sixty groaned out in frustration. This was such a clusterfuck. And, of course, he had to be the one to clean it up. He feigned disappointment rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes in exhaustion. “Guess I better tell the old man to record my soaps. Daddy ain’t coming home tonight.” He murmured to himself.

“Excuse m-?”

The android turned back to him, fury back in his eyes. “Don’t let anyone inside that building until I say so you hear me!? I’ll radio you in as soon as I’m done.”

Before he could reply or make a rebuttal, he took the radio on his breast in hand and spoke into it. “Do not send in rescue units. The shooter is still active. Captain Allen’s team is still in there. I repeat, do not send in rescue units!”

He tossed the radio into his chest giving him a caustic glace as he shouldered his way through the line of civilians and cops and crossed the caution line.

“What are you doing? Are you insane?” The man called out.

“To clean up your mess.” Sixty spun on his heel to face the man as he walked backward. “Someones gotta be, apparently!” He spun back around and stormed his way forward.

No one else stopped him and he was rather glad they didn’t, otherwise he would have snapped right then and there. In the end, even if Sixty didn’t like the guy already, tubby was doing his job. So the person who gave the order was to blame. So “whoever” fucked up this bad would meet the end of his fucking fist and then some.

He climbed the stairs, into the office building and stepped through the broken glass, over the dead bodies of those that couldn’t escape the mad man. He pitied them with one short glace before looking up. Looking ahead.

In a similar situation, Hank had told him there was no time to dwell on the lives lost. Not in this moment. Dwelling on them would distract from saving the others in danger and preventing more lives lost.

His words were wise but Sixty made the sudden observation that he wasn’t.

He was going in unarmed and with no protection. Just an android wearing dress pants and shirt with his sleeved rolled up to his elbows.

Comically enough, he wore sneakers today. Sumo ate his suede ones last night.

Sixty looked around the lobby and up towards the open space beyond. Well, if this guy was a decent shot he could have sniped him then and there. He wasn’t dead yet so that was a small victory.

Finding Captain Allen was his next mission. Sixty took in a deep breath. “Hello?!” He called out.

“Oh, mister-!” A shot rang out on the third floor. Sixty was already moving. At least he didn’t have to hunt down or draw out the shooter now.

He ran for the stairwell, flung open the door, and climbed the stairs with ease.

When he reached the floor, he looked through the glass to peer into the hallway. Sixty wasn’t expecting anyone but he didn’t want to be shot in the head as well. He angled himself just so and saw a body leaning against the wall. It was Allen.

“_Shit_.” He hissed.

The shooter had him at point blank with a shotgun. He didn’t think. Sixty acted. He flung the door open and raised his hands.

_ “Hello?!”_

Well, if he hadn’t heard _that_ voice before. From the lobby below he heard the all too familiar jokster’s voice of Sixty himself. The android that had his curiosity since the moment he met him.

Did he have a fucking death wish? He was a crazy motherfucker. To come into here giving himself out like that...

Despite it all, Allen rolled his eyes as he continued to talk to the open air. Well, that was a distraction as any came. Might as well use it to his advantage while he kept the shooter occupied.

Allen decided to take the chance and make a move, his rifle in his hand. He crouched low and made it towards the door that lead into the hall. Quickly yet quietly he made it outside. The crackle from his radio startled him. Communications were still out and his team wandered the building aimlessly. This is exactly what-.

A shot rang out that had him falling to the floor again. He gritted his teeth as the bullet ripped into his vest and caused him to hit the wall. Slowly he slid down the wall and fell to the floor. His breathing came out in desperate gasps and gulps of air.

He looked up in time to come face to face with the barrel of a shotgun.

“So, didn’t run out of slugs?”

“Your team was hard to hunt.”

Captain Allen’s heart skipped a beat. No. No he was bluffing. They… he couldn’t have. Damn it stay focused. He steeled his nerves once more.

“That’s all this is to you? A hunt?”

“Humans don’t deserve to repopulate and kill the world. I am doing the race a favor. A few deaths are nothing compared to the lives I will take after you. Might as well start here. A building with humans who drone on and on, day after day in their cookie cutter routine. It was mercy for them.”

“You’re sick.” He spat.

“Maybe. But it’s what I must do.”

The barrel was pressed firmly into his forehead. His finger pressed the trigger ever so slightly- the stairwell door was flung open and none other than Sixty stood before him. And what a sight for sore eyes he was. His arms were raised in surrender and...the fuck didn’t have a weapon? Where was his vest? His gear? Did he honestly come in here at the last minute? And were those sneakers?

“Uh, hey.” He waved comically, ticking his head with a half smile. This part of his plan wasn’t really given much forethought. “Excuse me for interrupting but you have my friend over there and I _kinda_ need him back.”

Wordlessly, the shooter raised his gun from him to Sixty. Allen felt a wave of panic settle over him. “Are you nuts?!”

Sixty made a so-so gesture with his hand. “It’s kinda up for debate whether or not I’m a glutton for punishment, the brave and dumb one, or a masochist-”

The captain pinched his eyebrows together in confusion.

“Right, so,” Sixty lowered his hands and took a step forward. “I’m going to need you to listen-” He had caught him on his not so patient days because two rounds echoed in the hall causing the android to recoil back from the blows.

The android fell back, his body going still after it fell limply. “Sixty!”

“Fool.” He had turned around and aimed the gun back to his head. “Even androids can not help but follow after human error.”

Allen ignored him. He stared at the android in horror. Jesus Christ. Jesus _fucking_ Christ….he was-.

“I could say I really wish you didn’t do that.”

No way…

The android sat up, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “But I would be lying.”

Sixty had felt the burn of a knife, had felt the sting of being burned, had experienced the bite of a bullet from a pistol or handgun.

He had been shot in the head.

But a shotgun? It was a new brand of pain. It hurt like a motherfucker. It took his artificial breath away like he had been punched in the gut in all the right ways.

It was thrilling.

Hay lay there just for a moment to recollected himself. To wait for the error messages to stop scrolling. Just to experience the moment of being the metaphorical dead that the shooter thought he was. But he was excited. The human equivalent of adrenaline went through him like a spike of liquid heat.

He sat up with a wicked smile on his lips enjoying the split moment of panic that the Captain showed for him.

“Shut up!” He butted Allen harshly in the temple rendering him dazed and barely awake.

He turned to Sixty gritting his teeth. Sixty narrowed his eyes not caring for the handling of his man crush. But he was also proud to know that mister stoic over here wasn’t as calm cool and collected as he thought he was. He turned to him pumping the weapon once, the sound of the shells landed on the carpet were music to his ears.

The low breathing of Allen’s breath. The smell of gunpowder enclosed in such a small space. The wet sensation and the pounding of the bullet wounds with each pump of his heart. All these sensations were what he lived for. What made him feel the most _alive_.

He liked the way his hand slightly shook as he held the gun. Sixty watched closely as he stood up. “What? It looks like you saw someone wake from the dead.” He spat. He ticked his jaw to the side flicking his eyes back to Allen.

He was still delirious and slightly out of.

In a way he was glad. He could play off what he would really do to the human before him as but a messed up dream and deny it all.

Sixty charged forward, a hectic shot from the man before him digging into his shoulder. He didn’t stop. And before he could shoot again he took the shotgun and pulled. Hard. Ripping it from his grasp with cracking fingers.

With a growl he jerks the butt of the gun, harder and harder, into his jaw, his temple, his face once, twice, thrice before the fucker finally fell to his knees in delirium.

“How do you like it?”  Sixty circles him, brown eyes sharp and deadly. He sees red trickle from his nose. It feels good. “How does it feel?”

The man upon his knees take a hand to wipe away the blood. “I don’t deserve this.”

Sixty growled. “Like hell you do.” H e kicked him  in his chest causing him to lay on his back. He plant ed a firm foot on his stomach,  pinning the  metaphorical bug to the wax tray. He wished he had worn his boots today. It would have made this moment even more satisfactory. All he had were these damn sneakers.

“I don’t like people like you. Think they’re so self  righteous and doing us a  favor with all your fucked up shit.  Really fucked up shit that- ”

“You’re fucked.”  He had the audacity to interrupt him. 

Sixty’s voice became louder, anger making him press the mouth of the barrel into his forehead. “I’m fucked up but at least  _ I know _ I’m fucked up! But you think you’re alright when your brain is stewing in it’s disintegration. The world doesn’t need humans like you. Not if you think you’re alright. Not if you think you’re fine.”

Not if he could take lives as if it were so easy. Painless. 

“I want you to do me a favor.” 

There was a difference between him and the human below. One that people tended to forget about the RK800 model 60.

The bodies from the lobby, their blood, their open eyes looking up in now permanent horror. The families they wouldn’t return home to. The sons, the daughters, the wive s, the husbands, the fathers, the-

The  shotgun held a nasty recoil. The sound of the report bit his audios. The splatter of red and the crunch of bone made shivers go down his spine. 

The difference was simple. The android  didn’t enjoy the kill.

He already had a toll from his past, added to it unless absolutely necessary.

He steps off of the mangled  corpse and stands looking down at him. With numbed motions he dissembles the shotogun and tosses the pieces away. The thrill of the confrontation was over and all that settled into his limbs now was pain, fatigue,  and bitterness .

Without taking his eyes away from the bloody mess of a human below, Sixty’s eyes trailed to a small black box on his hip. He picked it up, raising an eyebrow. If his assumptions were correct... He crushed it in his hand. Immediately the radio upon Captain Allen's breast began to crackle to life.

“Well. ‘Whoever’ has been found.” He said in a matter of factly voice. He was the one who had jammed their radios and was most likely the one who had given the order to fall back. Sixty almost regretted blowing his head off. He almost wanted to know how and why he was so experienced. Almost. A groan from behind him caught his attention.

“Clever bastard.” He gave one last look at the human before he waltz his way over to oh so handsome Captain Allen. Ignoring his own wounds for now, he scanned him over. He was in rough shape. A few blows to the head caused some swelling and a hefty concussion. His right knee was out of alignment and bruising from two shots had started to form in his chest.

With enough medical attention he would make a full recovery. It didn’t mean it made the now any less sucky.

“Hey.” He gently tapped two of his knuckles against the human’s forehead. “You alright there?”

Confusion crossed his face. He creased his eyebrows together as he opened his eyes and looked up. “I-I remember you-.” He must have gotten his head hit damn hard.

A genuine smile crossed his lips. “I should hope you do, Captain. It was like two days ago.” He wasn’t going to be that much of an asshole but he could get his jokes in.

The Captain blinked wearily and reached out his hand placing it against his chest “Christ I thought you were dead.”

“Oh this? This is nothing.” His thirium pump fluttered upon the human’s touch.

His eyes strayed away from the bullet wounds and over to the dead shooter. Immediately, Sixty leaned into his line of sight.

“Uh, yeah...he’s down. For good.” He didn’t want him seeing that. Not what he was capable of. Not this human. Not yet at least. “So, how about I get you out of here?” The android moved forward looping his one arm underneath his own, lifting him to his feet, and making sure to keep him looking toward the opposite direction of where the body lay.

Sixty hefted him into a stand, a quick bark of pain leaving him upon the sudden jerky motion. Shit, he hated seeing him in pain. How he wished he would have taken it away. He winced wrapping an arm around his chest. Allen was too good of a man to be suffering like this.

As he ushered the Captain towards the stairwell, he reached for his radio. A swell of hope rose when the radio was clear of any voices. “This is RK800 Sixty on Porter scene. Shooter has been compromised. Send in emergency response, officer down, coming in lobby on ground one.”

A short note that the airways had accepted his vocie and a burst of static before the familiar voice of the fat man came crackling through. “Copy that 60, units are on their way.”

He nodded once and turned to Allen, his voice oddly gentle. “Now, what about your men?”

“Told them to go silent for their sake. They’re hiding. Give a two click into the radio, a signal for the all clear.”

Sixty did as he was told. There was a long agonizing moment of silence and Allen bowed his head. “He wasn’t bluffing.” The android hated how his voice cracked.

“What do you mean?”

“Said he-” _Click, click. _

Immediately the responses flooded through.

A thankful, breathy smile graced his lips and Sixty could feel his body press into his own in relief. “Knew the fuck couldn’t take them down. Too good for that.”

“Said he killed them?” He assumed. From what he saw two days prior they were a tight knit squad with impressive talent and skill. “Dude, come on. He didn’t hit you that hard.” He joked.

They descended the stairs slowly, one by one. It took them forever but the android was patient and not wanting to carry him. Both their prides were too big at the moment.

When they reached the lobby, awaiting them was Allen’s small team and a medic who ran their way towards them.

Police were searching the area for survivors and those in need while paramedics followed after.

Gently, Sixty sat him on the ground and layed him flat, his head in his lap.

“Owe you a beer now.” He chuckled weakly.

Sixty’s hands paused where they were and he smirked. Maybe a blue blush came to his cheeks but he would deny it. “Now, don’t tell me you’re asking little ol’ me out.” His voice quivered upon the flirt.

“Fuck no,” he huffed shaking his head once. He ticked his jaw forward indicating the men and woman of his team standing over them. “Meet the guys, maybe get you on our team. Could always have someone like you as backup. Fuckin’ impressive. Crazy as fuck, but impressive.”

One of them clapped him on his shoulder and he smiled down to Captain Allen.

“Well, it’s a date, then.”

Yeah, he rather liked this human.


	17. "Stay With Me"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't help but find Sixty alluring. Too bad you didn't get a chance to get to know him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> Wrote this one to “clemetine” by Halsey and “Circles” by Post Malone. 
> 
> Also, if you guys are interested I have a whumptober2019 playlist on my spotify. Just look for me: Leonixon

Warnings: Blood, character deaths, violence.

Characters: You as reader, Sixty, Nines, OC android

* * *

“Okay John, have a good night, now.” You raised a hand in goodbye with a sweet smile at the janitor as he left for the night. You however were pulling a longer shift, staying behind, filing through paperwork and reports that were relevant to your ongoing case.

You were a green horn, new to this specific precinct and the shoes to fill from the officer that retired were large. This building and the people within held their virtues highly.

Especially the specialized team made of a few android brothers that were apart of the revolution itself. They were the epitome of professionalism. Well, except for one.

The one named Sixty caught your eye early on. He was interesting and his energy was something you couldn’t ignore. He was an asshole. There was no way of putting it nicely. But you didn’t mind to call him such a slur. He owned up to the name with pride.   
The first time you saw him was when his middle brother, Nines was his name, tossed a data pad at him in annoyance. The brother caught it in his hand with ease, a shit eating grin upon his face. Clearly it wasn’t the first time he had done it.

You caught what was on the data pad and blushed immediately. Rather explicit porn was playing in a minimized window in front of a report he had been attempting to type.

“Do this again Sixty, and I’ll have you reported!”

Sixty cackled joyously. “Yeah right! Don’t you like that man on man shit?” He yelled after him loudly, catching a few officers attention. They gave the fuming android a glance before going back to their own business. Just another day it seemed like.

Nines turned around and shot him a firm middle finger to which the brother cackled even more.

You couldn’t help but not stop a small smile that crossed your lips at his antics. As if he felt your eyes on him, he looked up to you.

You jolted in embarrassment and cleared your throat looking back at your computer, acting like you had been doing work the whole time. He caught you red handed but he made no indication.

But when you looked back at him he was smiling rather warmly. It seemed he was happy someone laughed at his prank.

As the days went on, more and more of the precinct began to speak with you. Small talk turned into full conversations in the break room.

“Sixty put salt in Gavin’s coffee again.”

“And he put windshield wiper fluid into his thirium.”

“Said it tasted like kool-aid.”

A chuckled left you as you took a sip of your own coffee. In a way he kept morale up. Even if some of his tricks were on the verge of being downright cruel it made you feel at ease knowing that he didn’t take himself so seriously.

A sudden sting had you rushing over to the sink to spit out the mouthful of coffee. You gagged. “Oh my god?!” You panicked.

And that was when you were officially part of the precinct.   
From across the bullpen Sixty seemingly went on his business but the smirk that pulled at his lips was evidence enough that he was the one who salted not just Gavin’s coffee, but yours as well.

The next day you enacted your revenge upon the android. You hacked his datapad and it started to play obnoxiously loud music. You pressed your lips inward and bit down to prevent a fountain of giggles escaping you.

“Who the fuck?” He looked up from his desk and around the bullpen. His angry voice was traded for humor as he pointed at Ben.

“I know it’s you! You generation thinks this joke is still funny!” The smile that pulled at his face now made funny things happen to your chest. Ben shouted his retort waving him off. “Bullshit! I’m onto you Benjamin!”

You bowed your head and enjoyed a good laugh.

“Fucking rick-rolling me...” He hissed to himself.

“Clever.”

The rumbling baritone of Nines suddenly behind you had you jumping in your seat. You placed a hand against your chest and looked up to the humored brother. Your cheeks flushed a deep red from being found out.

You soon realized that he wasn’t outing you, or scolding you. As a matter of fact, was that...approval you saw as well?

“Yeah,” You cleared your throat. “Payback you know?” You offered.

He huffed a little breath of humored laughter and was on his way.

Every so often you would rick roll the android and he would grow more and more frustrated. No one suspected it was the meek and timid new officer fresh from the academy that could do something so brilliant, so soon.

“Shut up, fuck boy.” Gavin growled for the third time this week. “It _wasn’t_ me.”

“Fuck you Reed. Wait, that’s Nines job but...”

“Just _shut up_.”

And even now, as you smiled down to your long cold coffee, you were scared to drink it but you needed it. Pulling this long shift was killing you.

With another desperate gulp of stale, cold, coffee you paged through another file. You swallowed it screwing your face in distaste. You went to take another sip but a hand on your shoulder and another mug of coffee was presented to you just the way you liked it. A smile graced your lips and you looked up to your android partner.

“Thank’s Clemmet, God you’re such a heaven sent.” You reached up and patted his shoulder in thanks.

“I know cold coffee is unpleasant to some humans. I took the liberty of making you another pot.”

Clemmet was an older android model. He was a tall and handsome fellow with lovely flawless tanned skin. His uniform was pressed to perfection and he was always quick to accommodate you. He was a slower model, upgraded networks and communications unfortunately affected him in the worst of ways. Frequent updates and malware scans had to be performed to keep him in tip-top shape.

He was a deviant and they considered letting the poor thing go and live life freely. But he decided to stay with the reasoning of liking his job. Many human officers had rotated through him, his lack of quick thinking and smooth functions being more of a burden than help. They had “dumped” him on you but you rather liked him. You liked his slower processing and even voice as he spoke.

He was smart and soft. Agile and quick. Strong and assertive when needed to be. Clemmet was considerate and showed his kindness through small gestures.

“Sit up, officer, your spine is misaligned.” When you slouched in your desk chair.

“You have a voice message from you sister.”

A warning of “Your coffee contains sodium chloride,” when Sixty had once again salted the pot of coffee.

And last but not least the way he made your coffee.

Light and sweet.

“Your efficiency will slowly decline by twenty one percent per hour. I would keep this in mind.”

You smiled flicking your eyes up to him. “Of course, I know.” You brushed him off but he smiled knowingly.

Not an hour later your body betrayed your mind. The coffee had your mind buzzing but sadly your body ached and was tired. You grumbled under your breath pushing aside the tablet.

“I was correct,” He snipped. “Again.”

“Yes, I know.” You moaned.   
“I will drive you home.” He stood from his chair snatching away your keys from your reach before you even could take them. You hissed a curse.   
“I’m fine. Honest. I’ll just keep the windows down and-.”

“I detect an eighty percent chance you will fall asleep at the wheel. I will not take that chance.”

You gave in easily. Clemmet would hound you relentlessly until you did so anyhow. You learned this fact the hard way.

Halfway to your house you had nodded off and your android partner was more than happy to take his jacket off to cover you up. You murmured under your breath. It was a chilly night. Or rather morning.

“Say, Clemmet, why don’t you stay over? It’s late and I don’t want you to drive all the way back to the precinct.”

“I’m alright,” he murmured your name genuinely. “I have to recharge.” It was a lousy excuse.

You hated the fact that he practically lived at the precinct. He waited on the charging station until the next morning, awaiting his orders from you. Even if he was deviant, he was still like a lost puppy. You didn’t mind guiding him through the day. Ordering him to do things was out of the question. There was a difference that you firmly believed in.

Dark eyes looked over to you in the span of the quiet moment left for you to think in.

You peered outside the window suffling yourself under the jacket more comfortably. It smelled of your favorite fabric softer. No one else bothered to do his laundry so you were more than happy to. “You’re always welcome home.”

They were a block away from her apartment. There wasn’t much time to convince him otherwise.

“C’mon, honestly-hey!” You jerked forward when the android had slammed on the breaks, his eyes turned towards an alleyway just aways from your apartment building. Before you could ask what had him so shaken up, sending his LED into a flurry of yellow and red, he was already speaking.

“There is a distressed signal next to us.”

“What?” Your fatigue was overtaken by a shot of adrenaline that ran through your veins with heat. Your eyes were opened wide looking out the window for any sign of a struggle. “Wait, is it an android or people? Should we call for backup?”

“No, I am taking you home. Hide there and wait until it’s safe. I have already called in for backup. Paramedics just in case of injury.”

“My ass, Clemmet! You’re my partner. I’m not letting you go in alone.” You were already opening the door and walking out into the cold dark night. Behind you, you heard his voice calling your name.

He placed the car in park and was already by your side.

You pulled out your firearm and kept it aimed true in front of yourself. As shadows gave way to dim lighting from the nearby streetlamp a familiar figure was held by the collar of his shirt.

The report of the handgun made you jump. The body fell limp to the puddled ground of the alleyway. The body was mangled and beaten and made no attempt to move or recover from the killing bullet.

You were bitterly reminded that you hadn’t killed yet. They you had only been a decent shot at targets and not live people.

It would be tested here and now it seemed. Even with Clemmet by your side your feet drew you in towards the possible danger.

You stepped closer and realized the familiar face of none other than Sixty. You stopped in your tracks. More adrenaline shot up your spine into your chest.

“Detroit police, put your _fucking_ hands up!” You yelled. The stern voice was foreign and unknown in your own ears.

The shadow turned towards you and aimed. You gasped. The reports, one, two, three, four, echoed into the night. The body in front of you jolted backward from each bullet as it met it’s wrong target.

Clemmet fell in front of you. The bright thirium blue seeping into the broken asphalt. Dead eyes looked up into yours. Your breath became ragged and quickened. The tears that prickled at your eyes strained your voice and your breathing. You looked back up and the shadow was revealed to be another android.

It raised its gun to you, ready to finish off what it had started.

A cry ripped from your throat. Anger, sadness, helplessness and the evolutionary need to conserve your life overtook your body. You were along for the horrendous ride.

Your body shook as you pressed the trigger, the familiar and unwanted recoils jolting you as they met their mark.

It was just a target you thought. Just a piece of paper. But it wasn’t. The target bled blue, splattering across its body as it finally dropped its weapon.

The shadow dropped and you were left in the silence. All that remained was the low murmurings of the idle engine of the vehicle behind you.

You released your hand, the heavy metal clattering to the ground at your feet.

You had killed for the first time. It felt terrible. You felt sick.

Shakily you looked down. Not to the gun you had dropped but to Clemmet. Your partner. Your friend, lay unmoving.

“Clemmet..._Clemmet_...” Your voice cracked and was so very small as you dropped to your knees. You hands trailed over his body. They shook so very violently. He had taken the bullets that were meant for you without a second thought.

Finally your shaking hand cupped his face delicately, tears flowing freely from your eyes. Everything else was forgotten. The smell of thirium stung your nose. You didn’t even know it had a smell. Yet, here you were, the smell making you gag.

He was dead. Clemmet was dead. The weight of the reality before set in and a cry escaped your throat. Apologies, one after another were rasped from your trembling lips. You bowed your head pressing your forehead into his chest and sobbed.

Among the quiet of the night and your sobs, a groan from beyond had you gasping and looking up. Sixty was alive?

There was hope that not _all _was lost. You reluctantly stood from your place next to your android giving him a hesitant glance before you decided. You had to help the living. That’s what your training had taught you.

But this wasn’t training. This was all too real. Your feet carried you by his side and to sank to your knees next to him.

“S-Sixty?” You flipped him onto his back. Before you had arrived and the gun was pulled out, Sixty had managed a physical altercation with him. There was a sign of clear struggle. A broken nose that bled that hideous blue. His arm twisted in an irregular angle.

Your eyes eventually fell to the bullet wounds.

“Holy shit, ow, ow...” His rasped turned into choking words. Blood pudding in the back of his throat. You placed fingers into his mouth to clear it out, tilting his head to the side. The other hand pressed to the worst of the bullet wounds, the one closest to the bullet near his thirium pump.

“What-what happened? What-?” Your voice quivered and shook, the syllables barely coming out clearly. But Sixty understood. A sad smile came to his lips. His head shaking side to side. He spat out more thirium his breathing wet and gargled.

Your eyes flicked to movement by his side. His hand curled into a fist, the pointer finger indicating something by his legs. A carton of broken eggs and a roll of soaked toilet paper.

“Was-_shit_,” He murmured your name. It made you pause. You didn’t think he knew what your name was. And hearing it tumble from his lips made your heart ache. He was dying and...God on Earth the two androids you loved with all your heart were…

This wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“Look, I k-knew it was you.” A blue stained smile shook his lips. “The videos, the music...cute. You-you’re cute. Egg your car as payback. Got jumped and-.”

His breathing suddenly stopped and then the desperate clicks of internal fans not working began to make him twitch. Startle hysteric sobs tumbled form your lips.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Clemmet-,” His voice physically hurt to say out loud. “Had help coming you’re okay. You’re fine. You’re...gonna be okay.”

“_I’m_ fine!” You spat. “Not you! Help is coming _for you_!” Three bullets all strategically placed to make his death long and suffering. How cruel. How terrible.

“Thanks for-for laughing.” He choked. “When n-no one else would.”

“No, no...Sixty listen to me.” You tried to sound stern but the tears in your eyes made your throat sting. “Stay with me, you hear me?”

His eyes fell closed.

You lifted your hands away from his body as any vibrations of living were slowed. “S-Sixy?” You murmured. Just as the distant sounds of sirens came he was already gone. “Stay with me...”


	18. Muffled Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Andersons and The Sterns are two families that hold control over this part in the city. When the Sterns step on their toes one last time, they send a message that is heard all too clear. They will send a message as well. Connor suffers the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does

Characters: mobster AU Hank, Connor, Nines, Sixty, Amanda, Elijah Kamski, Gavin Reed.

Warnings: Blood, torture, swearing, sixty’s fucking antics, explicit bodily torture.

* * *

In this part of the city, the Anderson family held control of the streets. They were not of a troubled family, they ruled their parts with honor and their own set rules, virtues, and laws.

But that didn’t mean they were not convicted of crimes themselves. They protected androids and humans alike from the law. When others needed to hide and fall off the map, the Andersons were the name people turned towards.

Hank Anderson was the leader of Son’s and Co a reality group that was the face of their true business. Connor Anderson fell below him, then the middle brother, Richard or “Nines”, and then the youngest, Corey or “Sixty”.

Nines was a quiet brother, watching and observing. He was the strongest of the three. When trouble came to be, Nines was sent to end it. Drama, rumors or troublemakers were put to rest by his hands or merely placed into silence by fear alone of his name. Everything remained in order because of his enforcement. None dared to say a word in front of him, nor behind him. A knife was sure to come their way... Hank relied upon him to kill or guard his family.

Sixty was the guard dog. No, not like Sumo, their father’s ever loyal Saint Bernard, but the one that scouted for enemies or one who strayed too close to the nest. Never would you see the youngest without a smirk or a flick of his unruly blond hair. He held a physical likeness to his brother Connor but had Nine’s temperament as if it were amplified negatively by ten fold. He was the dog on the chain only released to make a mess. He was sent in to do dirty work that Nines couldn’t handle. And that was quite fine with them. They had their cleaners specifically because of Sixty. He liked to make a rowdy mess now and then after all.

Then there was Connor. He was the eldest and next in line, ruling and learning alongside his father as closely as he could. He was a stern, quiet, individual. Just and strong. His voice was raspy and unwavering just like his fathers. Despite his hard exterior and the whispers and rumors he had killed a man or two personally, it was unheard of for a leader of The Sons to get their hands dirty after all, a person could find him in a rare moment to catch him smiling and being a kind, soft, soul.

The father and three sons ruled this part of the city and none had dared to challenge them.

Except for the Sterns.

The other family that ruled the opposite parts, Amanda Stern specifically, the leader of the cyborg black market, tread on their toes. People came to her when prosthetic weren’t enough. Some came to surrender their limbs willingly for power. Some had no other choice. Others were just their unfortunate little playthings, studying for improvement. It was good business to always improve after all. Alongside her was Elijah Kamski, the developer of said technology.

Gavin Reed was his assistant only because of his ties as a half brother to Elijah. Against his will he was made to do the dirty work, to ensnare helpless people into their den, to drag them back to where they were found. He hated it. Some say his brother’s discipline is how he earned the scars upon his face, including the one that dragged across his nose.

Recently, the Sterns had decided to grown aggressive, hungry for more territory and money. The market was booming and so was their technology. They began bleeding slowly into the Anderson's parts, converting humans to powerful cyborgs. Who needed protection peacefully when they could overthrow the ones that dared to cage them? Giving humans the ability to become their most powerful self was not a sin but a gift.

But Hank Anderson had been pushed to his limits. Their uncontrollable dog was sent to hunt. The message was sent all too clear before them.

The broken body of Chloe, Elijah's love lay before them on a table in a body bag.

Amanda stood by Kamski’s side, nothing but contempt upon her face.

“I want Connor.” Amanda finally spoke, her voice grounded, barely holding back the anger that brewed within. Kamski gritted his teeth looking away from his love with a hiss. Vengeance grew within.

Gavin was behind them lurking in the shadows. His arms were crossed as he looked upon the sight with worry, fear, and sadness.

There was no doubt with just that demand, this was the beginning of war.

The dearest brother, and the one next in line for the seat of Hank Anderson himself was captured and brought forth to Amanda and a vengeful Elijah Kamski. He was a fighter and capturing the brother was no easy feat. Taking him down took time and effort.

The lackey was told to subdue him and nothing more. His body was stuffed into the trunk and taken to their personal lab where he now lay atop the cold metal surface of a surgery table.

“You are making the worst mistake of your lives!” He spat. Sweat beaded his pretty face and the hairs from being slicked back came undone as he snarled promises.

Promises his father would find out. That his brothers would rip them limb from limb.

Amanda made no reactions. It was humorous how rabid the son could be. How much fight he held but it would dwindle away. “He will tire himself out and then we will have our pleasure.”

Soon enough the son gave up the fight against the ropes that were tied thickly around his wrists and legs and breathed heavily.

“Hello, Connor.” Amanda finally showed herself stepping into the glow from the surgical light above.

The sons eyes widened before narrowing dangerously. “Amanda...” He hissed.

Kamski circled around the table, predatory eyes never leaving him. “So this is Anderson lion cub.”

Connor turned toward the voice at his feet. “Fuck you.”

Amanda ticked her head. “You sent us a message and we heard it loud and clear.”

“You are trespassing on our limits. You are breaking the agreement we had, Stern!” He spat. “We warned you and we acted! We are fair until you push us.”

“All this righteous talk.” Kamski stepped forward gripping his chin tightly to silence him. “You lot think you are so honorable. So worthy of respect. Chloe was _innocent_.”

“She was a dog, a bitch put down.” He gritted, brown eyes never wavering in defeat despite growing fatigue.

Kamski took a step back, the anger brewing within. He yelled out, backhanding the son harshly. “_She_ was my love.”

Amanda smile head tilting upwards in satisfaction upon another blow her assistant dealt.

“But you will learn, you will learn once you _feel_.” A syringe was taken from a surgical tray nearby. He loved how the son’s bravery wavered in his eyes. He loved the fear in all his patients, not victims, eyes.

The needle slowly went into his arm and Connor bit his lip struggling against his ties again.

“I want you to stay awake for every single moment of this. I want your father to pay for what you have done to my love. For wanting to just expand our horizons in Amanda’s image.

The son groaned as soon as the drug began to hit him, his breathing growing more ragged and quickening. Sounds, smells, and sensations grew sensitive.

“Whatever you plan on doing know I’ll fucking ruin you all.”

A huff of laughter and the man turned away walking back to the outer shadows of the room. A mechanical sound of a small power tool whined to life. He returned into the light. “We will break you, perfect son.” He raised a jigsaw to his side and Connor’s eyes widened. Panic settled within him as he shook his head.

“Gavin,” Kamski called over his shoulder. “Gag him.” Hesitantly he did as he was told taking the nearby towel in hand.

Mournfully, he folded it into a strip before pressing it along his mouth and wrapping it around his head. He watched as his bravery bled into horror as the jigsaw drew close to his upper left arm.

“When I am through with you, you will be but a broken dog, Anderson. And no longer will you be the perfect son in your father’s eyes.

The jigsaw was forced into his arm. A scream was ripped from Connor’s throat as he thrashed violently, the ropes keeping him in place. Elijah angled the tool flesh giving way to bone as it sawed through the dense matter. High pitched screams that were muffled by the cloth in his mouth continued to echo in the room.

Gavin took a step back as the blood from the young man’s arm was splattered on the ground, the table, his brother and himself. He flinched when the wet strips were splashed across his face. Amanda was too busy watching the scene unfold before her to notice his retreating form. Shaking hand wiped away red from his lips and face.

His stomach soured and bile rose in his throat upon the sight and smell of deep copper. He didn’t know whether to place a hand over his mouth or ears as the son continued to scream his lungs out.

The jigsaw finally shut off after four minutes of cutting. A sickly thud cut the silence.

To be continued.


	19. Asphyxiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nines did tell him to cut back on the cigarettes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does

Characters: Gavin Reed, Nines.

Warnings: necrophilia, violence.

* * *

“This is your fourth cigarette this morning detective,” Nine’s ever so smooth voice notified. “Is everything alright?” He looked down to the body before them. It was the third victim in a case that detective Reed had taken on. So far, the only lead they had was that he was male, and he liked his victims to be female androids who were once employees of the Eden Club.

He liked to shoot them down. And according to Nine’s reconstructions he stuck around after the kill to do whatever. Gavin knew what he did and it made him sick. He was clean with it too.

Countless interviews with the owners, the managers, and staff had been completed already. It was a waste of time. They only knew of a few humans that liked to fantasize about such a taboo. The ever so unfortunate part was that their clients remained anonymous and their identities were kept safe. For DPD it was a detrimental hit to the case. For the killer? Kept him safe and sound to do as he pleased. And now another beautiful android was dead.

Gavin sucked on the stick with a purposeful long drag and turned to his partner, nose flinching upwards in disgust. He blew the smoke at him. Even deviant and he wouldn’t get a reaction out of his partner.

“Yeah, lotta things.” He indicated the body below him with half smoked cigarette. “Lets start with the fact this fuck is horny for dead girls.” He flicked the cigarette butt away and coughed into his elbow, his body wracking violently. It was loud and it burned his chest.

So what if he was a little stressed out and needed a vice to outlet his frustrations. Everyone did. Hank had his Black Lamb, Tina had her trip nights, and he had his cancer sticks. But deep down, he could admit, his lungs and breathing were suffering for it. Mix that with the damp, thick, cold, fall air of Detroit and it was a concoction made for disaster.

“You have a medical history of asthma, Gavin. I’m concerned.” He drew closer to him making sure there were no prying eyes. He gently cupped his elbow and pulled him away from the body.

Gavin didn’t protest because he held a soft spot for his android. Especially when he sacrificed his pride in a public space to show affections.

“We will solve this case.” He insisted. His hand drew up to his forearm and Nines made sure that he was forced to look up to him. “But your health comes first.”

Gavin bowed his head nibbling the bottom of his lip. It was odd how he felt shame under his gaze. “Yeah, well, this case is hard and when it’s done, I’ll cut back.” He ripped his arm away from his android. “It’s no big deal.” He always kept a rescue inhaler in his car anyway.

But come to think of it, he hadn’t touched that damned thing in years. It had to have been long expired... He adjusted his jacket closer to his neck and took in a deep steadying breath.

Nines leveled him with a firm glare before returning it to the body. “The thirium is still blue, and her lines are still soft from internal heat. She has been here for only an hour and thirty two minutes.”

“You think our guy is still around?”

“Highly probable. We may have interrupted his activities, I’m afraid...”

“Fine.” He turned around. “Rodrick!”

An officer bounded over to him. “Yeah, sarge?”

“Robo-man here says our guy might be still around. Get a radius on the scene and search.” He crossed his arms and tried to hold in another wet cough but failed miserably. Next to him Nines went onto his knees looking intently at a specific spot on the concrete ground.

“On it.”

Gavin watched him bound over to a group of officers before looking down to Nines. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he leaned over, hands on his thighs. “What you-”

Nines reached his hand forward and Gavin was quick to realize what he was doing. “Nope!” He barked taking his arm and ripping it back. “You _are not _doing that!”

The android looked up to him in exasperation. “If I am to place an identity on our killer then I have to.”

“You are not licking cum off your fingers like cheeto dust you hear me?!” He hissed. “It’s bad enough I kiss you with the thought you taste blood and thirium on the daily, but not this.”

He rolled his eyes. “You are being dramatic. Antiseptic fluids are always cleansing my oral orifice. And if any-.”

“Shut up! _Just_-you are not licking cum off your fingers.” He stood up and turned towards a woman taking pictures of the scene.

“Unless it’s yours, of course.” Nines murmured under his breath.

Gavin turned back to him. “What was that, plastic?”

“Nothing, nothing...” He sighed standing up, clasping his hands behind his back.

Gavin leveled him with a fiery glare before turning away. “Get Fiona over here, we got a semen sample.”

Another woman of smaller stature came running over to them with a black case in hand. She was already putting on purple examination gloves. “Seminal fluid samples are my_ favorite_.” She said excitedly. She paused looking up both android and human in embarrassment. “Uh, its a forensics thing.”

Gavin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sure. Right. Anyway. Get this to the lab as soon-”

A crack of a report and then the sharp sound of air being split by metal. A cry of pain.

His breath was taken away as Nines harshly pressed himself against his own and forced him into a crouch. Next to them Fiona went down clutching her shoulder.

“Everyone get down!” Gavin barked, his hand held his android’s arm tightly. “Nines-.”

“I know.”

He spun from his human and stood scanning the area. Immediately his sights locked on a man running away from the scene.

Gavin had his sights on him too because adrenaline had taken over his body. He wouldn’t let this fuck get away. The sound of his heavy footfalls thudded in his ears along with the fast pulse of his heart. Eventually as he turned down the block his breathing became louder and louder. Hissed breaths were now deep, long, pants.

Nines was right, he had to quit the cigarettes. He had to. Better yet, he should have sent Nines to chase after him. The fucking guy could run fast at any given moment. Once the command was given he wouldn’t stop until he had his target in his grasp.

No need to suck in air to desperately feed oxygen that the body craved. There was no lactic acid build up that burned and stung each footfall and made the limbs oh so heavy.

“Move! Out of the way!” Gavin panted, rushing through the busy streets of Detroit.

His radio crackled to life. “_Detective, your location._” Was the ever so even voice of his partner.

He hissed in frustration, hands fumbling to bring the damned thing to his lips. His words were heavy and panted. His airways felt too tight all too suddenly.

The killer was getting farther and father away or was that just his vision going?

“_Copy._” Was his partners’ leveled reply. The hunter was on the prowl, ready to catch it’s prey. And he knew he would. Whenever he damn well pleased and wanted to. A beautiful deadly game his partner took pride in. No wonder why machines were replacing them one by one. Humans would become the obsolete ones. If not already.

Gavin growled. “God damn it...” With one more greedy intake of air his throat closed in. The burn of air no longer met his lungs and instead a tight fist clenched around his chest.

Against his will, his body slowed to a stop even if he wanted to continue giving chase. He was getting away. The fuck was getting away...He placed a hand on a newspaper box and fell to his knees.

His other hand clenched at his shirt and jacket that suddenly felt too constricted and tight. Concerned voices above him didn’t matter, his vision was closing in just as fast as his lungs. His mouth remained open, eyes pinching shut to force air into his body.

An asthma attack.

Jesus Christ, the toaster was right. Memories of sitting out at recess, gym class being cut abruptly because his lungs betrayed him. Countless days of school missed because of bronchitis or pneumonia.

Someone was calling for paramedics.

A long wheeze left the detective as tears prickled at his eyes. His hand slid down the warm metal and reached for his radio. “N-Nines...” He barely was able to speak his name. “H-H....”

His chest rose and fell quickly as his body sucked in more and more desperate gulps of oxygen. Gavin was now hyperventilating against his will. It was as if he was drowning on air. Too much and yet not enough at the same time.

Next to him the sound of quick footfalls came to an abrupt stop. Hands shoved him to sit against the metal box. They rose to cup his face and forced him to look up. Nines.

He shook his head gasping. “No! _No_!” He pointed in the general direction of where the killer was getting away. His hand gripped his arm and brought it to his chest gently.

He remained in front of him. “Absolutely not.”

“Phcking chase him! that-that’s an order damn it!” He rasped but cringed upon forcing his throat to open. He winced in pain.

“Gavin!” His hands suddenly became firm and harsh as he shook his head once to snap him out of his delirious state. “You are more important!”

Something was shaken in his hand and brought to his lips. The nostalgic sound of the hiss of an inhaler and the coppery taste of medicine attacked the back of his tongue. It seemed like Nines had found his rescue inhaler. Expired or not expired, something was better than nothing. “Now, breathe,” was the command.

A short intake was taken. It wasn’t enough.

Another hiss. “Another.” Nines ordered.

This time the breath he took was graciously better and a bit deeper. The cool relief of the medicine reached the inner parts of his lungs. The inhaler was taken away from his lips and hands were brought to his face once again to hold him steady.

He breathed along the gentle rhythm of thumbs being swiped across his cheeks. His vision became clearer and immediately he saw a ring of yellow and red. A small smile came to his lips and Nines visibly relaxed.

“It-it sounded like….”

“Don’t talk.” He murmured. “Just relax.”

Gavin shook his head numbly. “Scared?” Gavin asked with a gasping voice. It was becoming easier and easier for him to breathe. Slowly but surely the rise and fall of his chest became more automated than manual.

Nines didn’t answer, instead he leaned forward pressing their foreheads together. “I wish you would listen to me, detective.”

Limply, Gavin tossed his arm over his back in a lazy embrace. If he had listened to him sooner maybe he would have been able to catch their guy.

“My fault, huh?”

Nines backed away and sighed heavily. “We have a sample. As long as we can track him down.” A hidden ‘Yes it was’ was in his tone.

“Fiona?”

“She will be fine. As for you though.”

Gavin didn’t make any indication he would be getting up in the next moment. So Nines definitely took this moment to dig his agenda further. He sighed in defeat.

“No more cigarettes.”


	20. Trembling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The RK brothers are venturing home from a day trip and get stranded amidst a snow storm...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whumptober2019 on tumblr made a list of prompts to complete every day for the whole month of October. I’m giving it a shot. Each chapter will be titled the prompt, characters, and warnings at the beginning.  
As always, read what you can handle and take heed to any of the warnings.

Warnings: swearing

Characters: Nines, Sixty, Connor

* * *

The three brothers had traveled away for a day trip out to the countryside, seeing the wonders that the winter brought. The countryside annual winter fest was an activity of Connors’ idea. He didn’t much care for the cold but he loved the snowflakes and the iced over lakes. He liked the snowman and children having the time of their lives playing in the icy terrain.

He was slowly learning such coldness and dead could also bring forth warmth and happiness.

But they, he especially didn’t expect for their day out to end like this. They told Hank that they would be getting home late. A stop at an impromptu visit to an ice sculpture contest was a last minute activity they didn’t think they would spend so much time on. The beauty of it enraptured their attentions. The way the setting sun reflected in the clear ice made it look all too similar to glass.

And when the sun went down the lights that were under each sculpture truly came to life.

“It’s been an hour.” Sixty grounded out standing up from the cold ground. “Give it up.”

Coming home in the dark wouldn’t be an issue.

Nines’ slammed the hood down to the car and ticked his head in aggravation. “Another thirty and we can attempt to find shelter.” He dusted snow off his shoulders. “Let me figure this out.”

The deer that ran in front of their vehicle and stalled their engine was the problem. As for the deer? Completely unscathed. It had run off to the other side of the road into the woods.

To make matters worse the snow storm that had moved in was two hours ahead of scheduled.

“We_ don’t _have the parts and we should have _left_ half hour ago.” Sixty hissed shoving his shoulder harshly.

“Sixty...” He warned. Nines’ angered expression was highlighted by, not just his red LED, but the flashing four ways that filtered through heavy falling snow. Steam from the engine rolled over the hood and past them mocking of their unfortunate fate.

“Maybe if we didn’t stop for a fucking angel made of ice we wouldn’t be here!” The arguing brothers didn’t hear the passenger side door open.

“You are being immature.” Nines was lasting on a thin nerve of patience.

“Enough.” Connor bit. They both looked to him, shivering as he stepped out from the car.

Immediately, Nines’ face morphed into worry. “Connor get back inside.”

“Sixty’s right. W-we have to look for shelter. The storm will only getting worse.”

Sixty set his jaw firmly and marched his way over to his older brother and shook his jacket off piling it atop the one nines had already given him. He drew and zipped it closed.

Connor closed his eyes and curled into himself more, nodding in thanks. A moment of heavy silence fell over them. The eldest brother didn’t like the cold but more specifically had a weakness towards it. They had their suspicions but they were smart to not pry at the matter.

“Thank you.” He barely rasped.

Sixty nodded numbly. “Get back in the car, dude.” He wrapped an arm around him to guide him back inside but stopped upon the middle brother’s voice.

“You smell that?” Nines spoke, his voice sharp and sudden, quite opposite to the way he moved. He turned towards the woods standing with his fists by his sides. His motions were jerky, the ten below weather causing motions to lock up a little more easily.

Sixty flicked a nervous glance to him. “What? Can’t blame it on the dog this time.”

He turned his head over his shoulder and hissed in aggravation. “Sixty, no. Smoke. Do you smell it? That means there’s a cabin or home nearby.” A small smile flicked at his lips.

“Well, follow the scent, dog.” He raised his hand egging him on. “We’ll-”

“Stay here.”

Sixty snapped his tongue. “Hell no. Nines, he won’t last much longer. If you find it, and we’re with you Connor won’t-he won’t...”

“And if not?” He pushed, eyebrows creasing together.

The youngest pressed his lips together. The thought scared him and he could tell that it bothered Nines too. He looked back to his brother who was now shivering, his hands curled into his armpits. His head was cowered forward, tucking his mouth and nose into the collar. Sixty pulled the hood of Nine’s jacket forward and over his head.

Snow began to layer the top of the vehicle and their shoulders.

The silence was deafening. The soft flecks of snow piling. The click-click of four ways from inside the car. The straining sounds of Connor’s core.

“We have no choice.” The youngest finally murmured.

With that the three brothers made their way into the woods. The snow hadn’t accumulated under the canopy of the pine trees surrounding them but their feet had to trek through uneven terrain.

They had Connor walk between them as they walked in a line. A muffled thump and a startled shout from Sixty had Nines stopping and turning around to the scene behind him.

“Connor!”

Connor had fallen to his knees and collapsed onto his side, his body violently wracked with trembling.

“Connor?” Nines was by his side lifting him into his lap. Snow dusted his eyelashes as his eyes fell closed. He held his chin with one hand shaking his head. “No, no, wake up damn it.” He ground out. Fear laced his voice.

“Fuck, Nines. Fuck!” Sixty snapped, placing his hands atop his head. He walked a half circle in growing frustration.

“You’re not helping!”

Sixty’s familiar brown eyes flashed down towards his brother. “Fuck you! Fuck you ten times over. Blaming this shit on me is what _really_ wont help!”

Nines growled lashing out to him with a bite of words. “Losing our composure won’t do us any good!”

“You telling me that or to yourself, dude? You’re scared and you’re being a chicken _shit_ about it!” Sixty angrily jabbed a finger at him upon the word.

“I am!”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth the android clasped his mouth shut. “I am...and” His shoulders fell as he looked back down to Connor. Sixty looked away bitterly upon his confession. “I’m sorry.”

The youngest looked back towards his brothers, his fingers fiddling anxiously before he walked forward. “Me too.” Sixty placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “C’mon we’re getting close. It’s strong now.”

Nines nodded his head once. As gently as possible as if he were made of glass, he took his brother into his arms bridal style keeping his head tucked under his chin. The pine wood canopy overhead gave way for an open field. The wind picked up and the snow flurried faster into their paths. The only visible thing in front of Sixty was his brother’s red swirling LED.

It was getting harder and harder to move. The same thing that happened to Connor was starting to set into his body. His joints began to stiffen and his hands began to shake. He tucked them under his arms.

Soon enough he stumbled but caught himself on his brother.

“Sixty?”

“I’m fine! Keep going!” He barked and clenched his eyes shut to fight the burning cold in his limbs.

After a moment of blind stumbling in the general direction of his brother, he looked up and through the blurry distance was their salvation.

His face lit up in excitement. “Nines look!” Off in the distance, a porch light flickered on. It soon bled dim as the motion it sensed was gone.

Newfound hope and vigor rose between them as they rushed towards the cabin nestled in the woods. An old pickup was parked in the driveway and the long stone chimney billowed the smoke they had followed.

They marched their way up to the front door panting in exertion. Sixty was shivering violently as he knocked on the door to the country style cabin. Whatever lay inside he didn’t care. His brother needed help and fast.

The door opened revealing a little boy. Sixty looked down and blinked. “Um...?”

Suddenly, an elder gentleman came from behind the door with a shotgun. “You have three seconds to properly _fuck off_!”

“Holy shit! Hey! Hey!” Sixty bellowed, ducking down placing his hands up. “Easy! Look, hey! We need help!”

“I don’t care!” He cocked the shotgun and took a step forward. The little boy watched with innocent eyes, placing a thumb into his mouth.

“Timmy get your buttskie in here! Your mother will have a fit! Harold!” The man stopped short of what he was about to do and lowered his gun reluctantly. “What are you yellin’ about?!”

“Nothing, Nance! Keep your ass in the kitchen!” The man named Harold yelled over his shoulder. The little boy giggled and did as he was told disappearing into the house.

From behind, an elderly woman whacked him in the head with a wooden spoon. She looked livid for such a frail tiny woman. Thin glasses framed her face and her long silver hair was tied into a braid. Sixty stood up straight, arms by his side in disbelief. He looked back at Nines whom looked the same if not more stressed.

“How dare you, Harold? Look at the poor things. They’re freezing!” She gasped upon the sight of Nine’s holding his still brother in his arms. “Good lord!”

“They’re fucking androids!”

“And so is our daughter-in-law.” She pushed him away and back into the house. After Harold was out of sight. The elderly woman reached forward and pulled them inside the cabin. They did not fight the hurried titters and pushing. The brothers felt the warmth of the home seep into their struts.

She quickly closed the door, clasped her hands around Sixty’s, and pressed a concerned hand to his cheek. “Oh you poor things. Come here. Come to the fire. Timothy! Get us a few more logs from out back, could you?”

The little boy took his thumb out of his mouth and nodded excitedly. “’kay granma!”

Nines fell to his knees by the fire peeling off the jacket that was already soaking with water as the snow melted.

“Thank you. Thank you...” Nines continued to murmur over and over again to the human, as he rushed to the fire and placed Connor on the ground before it. Sixty slunk closer to his two brothers, went to his knees, and looked up to Nines with concern. He had never seen him so worried in his life. Usually he was so composed. He rushed to strip him of the wet clothes as soon as possible.

“I’ll get a hot pack.”

Sixty raised his hands to do something, anything to help Connor, but his arms locked and he bowed forward. A whimper he didn’t mean to come from his lips tumbled forward.

The sound made nines look to his brother as if he had just noticed him. “Sixty...” His hands were already moving to take his clothes off as well.

“If this were a porno...” Sixty was thankful because he couldn’t move all that well. “This is what they called incest.”

Nines released a breathy laugh and ticked his head. “Well, good thing it’s not, yes?”

All that remained on the two RK800’s were their underwear.

Sixty looked up to the elderly woman who offered a long heavy pack of rice that smelled of soothing herbs. It smelled as if it were the definition of the term home.

Not of Hank’s home but something sweeter and gentle. Loving and caring.

Behind them the man named Harold huffed, reluctantly falling back into the recliner. He looked over his shoulder and then up to the woman. “Thank you.”

He took the offered heat pack and placed it over Connor’s chest.

“I’ll get some blankets. The last thing you need is a cold.”

“They’re androids...” Harold grumbled.

“Hush you.” She snapped. “Go to bed. Don’t know why you stay up so late anyhow.”

“To prevent intruders like this misfit lot.”

Her voice was heard from down the hall just across the living room. “Say, where did you boys come from? And so late?”

Nines brought Sixty close to his side wrapping a protective arm around his shoulders. Any sort of warmth, if any, that Nines gave off along with the fire helped. “We were coming home from a day trip, a deer hit our car, and the engine stalled. We got stranded.”

The elderly woman came back with a heavy knitted quit and draped it over their shoulders. It was large enough to encompass all of them. It was soft and complex made with mismatched patches of cloth.

“You poor things” She hovered a hand over Connor, as if unsure of what to do. “Will your brother be alright?”

Nines looked down to Connor. A small smile that disappearing as fast as it appeared flicked at the corner of his mouth upon the human noting their similarities in such a heartwarming manner. “Yes. For now he is only in an emergency standby mode. When his internal temperature is optimal he will online.”

Satisfied with the answer she nodded once.

From the back room, the little boy named Timothy had brought in three good sized logs. He hefted them over to Sixty and plopped them down before him. The android started from his dazed state biting his lip to prevent a curse from escaping. Though after his startle, he was grateful for the smile the child brought to his lips. “Atta boy, give it here.” He raised a shaky hand for a high five. The little boy smiled in glee and slapped it hard to truly show his strength.

Sixty winced, smiled to cover it up, and ruffled his hair.

Harold stood up with a huff. “Alright Tim, time for bed. Your parents will have a fit.”

“Not if they don’t find out! I want to play with my new friend.”

Nance placed her hands on his shoulders, kissing him atop his head. “Tomorrow, Timothy, they need their rest.” Harold hefted the little boy on his hip, taking him away to tuck into bed. He waved a goodbye to which Sixty returned. The fire wasn’t the only thing that warmed him.

“Got a good kid there, Nance.” Sixty murmured closing his eyes.

“He’s a good boy. My son raised him right.”

There was a moment of silence as the elderly woman decided it was alright for her to move away from them and to the couch, no longer worried that their porcelain bodies would crumble.

Nines broke it “I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce ourselves.”

“Now that the panic is well away so did I.” She sat on the couch and picked up her knitting needles and began where she left off. It looked like a blanket for a baby. “I’m Nancy, and Harold you already met.

Nines smiled bowing his head politely. “I’m Nines, Sixty, and this is Connor.” He smiled. “We’re grateful for what you did for us.”

“How could I leave you three out in such horrible weather? Three brothers trapped against mother nature? How terrible...”

Sixty huffed nuzzling into Nines further. “It fucking sucked.”

Nancy tutted under he breath upon the curse. Sixty flinched. He actually felt guilt for disappointing the granny. “I’m turning off for a bit.”

Nines looked down to him and placed a hand against his forehead. He was still cold. “When you reach regular internal temperature wake up, alright?”

The brother hummed in agreement and clicked off. If he still had his LED it would be pulsing a gentle blue.

“How about you nod off, too, dear?”

“No.” He immediately and harshly answered. “I mean, no,” He corrected gently. “I will when they wake up.” He brushed his hand through Connor’s wet hair. “When they’re okay.”

A soft chuckle left Nancy. “I’ll be sure to keep a good eye on you three. I may not be young but I still kick until the late hours.”

Nines smiled in thanks but declined politely. He tossed another log onto the fire and found the roaring flames, the flickering and crackling of the wood to soothe his aching body and mind. Curling the blanket around him further and settling against Sixty he lost the fight against the need for a recharge after a strenuous journey.

Nancy looked up and gave a knowing smile to the brother.

Harold came back from tucking in their grandchild for the night and sat in his recliner. “Did they die?”

She pouted an annoyance glare to her husband, hands continuing to loop yarn around and around the needles. “Stop it, they’re tuckered out. Out like a light.”

“Hmn,” He sniffed, rubbing his nose and inclining his head as if he wasn’t interested at all. “Brothers I assume?”

“Of course,” She didn’t look away from her work this time. “Doesn’t it remind you of when you were younger? Always coming home late with your friends. The messes you lot would get into.”

For the first time tonight, a flick of a smile crossed his scowling features. “Yeah, Hank would always be the one to drag our asses back.” He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes, his voice quiet and longing. “I wonder what he’s up to nowadays...”


	21. Laced Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Nines go out for the night. He thought it was the whiskey hitting him hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whumptober2019 on tumblr made a list of prompts to complete every day for the whole month of October. I’m giving it a shot. Each chapter will be titled the prompt, characters, and warnings at the beginning.  
As always, read what you can handle and take heed to any of the warnings.

Characters: Nines, Gavin 

Warnings: Attempted Date Rape, violence, swearing, blood

Give another round of applause for Deviantalicee for putting out this fire with gasoline and beta reading it. luv u hoe

* * *

Nines can’t remember the last time he had this much fun. Perhaps it was the fact that his definition of fun was strict and only a few things could make him smile. He was stoic, aloof and the serious type. That’s just how some people were. As Hank had once said, “knowing what makes you happy is all that matters.” 

A good book, a fast paced sparring session with Sixty, or a shower to be alone with his thoughts were pleasurable things. 

Tonight was fun - is fun. Gavin and himself had set out to a local bar on a rowdy Friday night. A local band was also playing and providing entertaining music throughout the night. Everything was going well. 

Gavin was on his second glass of whiskey, taking his time to loosen up and enjoy the night as well. His kisses tasted sweet against his tongue. These were the intimate, lovelier moments in which Nines craved. When the world was shut out and all there was was the moment between them. 

His hand drew along his thigh reassuringly, turning to return watching the crowd. But, when he did so, a rather attractive android had bravely walked up to him. 

Gavin was smart to look away and allow his android to figure this one out alone, much to his dismay. He only looked back at Gavin with confusion written on his face when she had taken him by his hands and practically dragged him to the dance floor. He raised his glass and ticked it to him unhelpfully. 

She was gentle with her body as she danced and was truly a sweetheart in his eyes. But after a song and then two, Nines kissed her goodbye on the cheek and wished her night well. She wasn’t looking for anything and for that, Nines was thankful. 

He walked back to the bar - a dopey smile on his face. It felt natural and relaxed, his LED spiraling a lovely blue. This night was wonderful. It was...the smile slowly fell from his face when he noticed that Gavin wasn’t where he had left him. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t at the bar at all. 

His drink was left behind, the two ice cubes he specifically liked in his whiskey touching the bottom of the glass further. He looked up to the bartender but thought otherwise of his decision. There were countless patrons in the bar. Asking if he saw where a scruffy, hasn’t slept in four days, five o’clock shadowed man described about thirty percent of the people in here tonight. 

Nines looked back down to the drink. Gavin always finished his whiskey. He never wasted a single drop. Perhaps he went for a bathroom break. But even then it was etiquette to place a coaster atop the drink to let the bartender know the patron would be coming back. Or to at least finish it because of certain precautions. 

Unless. _ No _. His chest tightened, ice shooting down his spine. 

If he denied it, why was he taking the drink in hand and tasting it anyhow? His LED blinked a processing yellow as he swirled the drink in his mouth. It tasted of honey and stinging heat and the violent traces of rohypnol. A popular date rape drug. 

The android slammed down the drink, causing people around him to look his way. This time he flagged down the bartender. 

“_ Where is he _?” He muttered through grit teeth. 

Gavin watched his android get pulled onto the dance floor by the pretty lady in black. He hadn’t felt this happy in a long while and he was glad Nines was loosening up and experiencing this as well. He watched as he danced with her for the first few moments before turning back around to enjoy his drink and perhaps check out a few men at the bar. It was alright to look but not touch. As for Nines, the android found that he leaned more towards men but liked women as well. Gavin on the other hand, enjoyed men only. 

Despite Nines being bisexual oriented, he knew Nines was all his. Having him experiment with both sides was fine by him. So as long as he was the one in his bed tonight. Gavin took another swig of whiskey but it was short. Funny, his drinks were hitting awfully hard tonight. He placed the glass down onto the bar and swallowed the mouthful with a raised eyebrow and curse. 

Well, maybe it was because he was drinking on an empty stomach. But then again, this was his second drink. Even if it was on an empty stomach, he would have only been buzzed. He purposely drank slow for this reason. His stomach churned and a sour expression came to his face. 

“Hey, I’ll be back alright?” He told the bartender. “Just powdering my nose.” The guy tipped his head in acknowledgment and went back to pouring drinks. Gavin stepped off the stool, not noticing another man at the end of the bar step away as well. 

Stumbling on the tilting ground, feeling the pounding bass of the electric song playing all too much, weaving through the swimming people, Gavin made his way towards the bathroom. What was just a rowdy Friday night at a local bar had turned into a night at a mirror house at a carnival. 

He was no longer having fun. He pushed open the door to the bathroom, putting his whole weight into his hand and stumbled inside. Once there, he placed a hand to his forehead and groaned. The door closed muffling the rowdy sounds from the bar. He was getting dizzier. His thoughts weren’t coherent. Was he sleeping? Was he standing? Was he sitting? “What tha...?” He slurred. 

The door opened again and Gavin turned around towards the distorted sound. He raised a hand in a halfhearted wave and smiled at the opposite shadow. 

He went to speak an apology about the room being occupied at the moment but the shadow took him by his forearms and shoved the side of his face into the tiled wall, leaving his back bare to him before he had the chance to attempt the apology. 

His mind was too cloudy and foggy to comprehend what was happening. Not even common sense made sense. What his mind tried to comprehend fizzled into sleepy blank thoughts. Deep down he knew something was definitely, absolutely _ wrong _but whatever coated that worry was too thick to fight through. 

He didn’t protest when a hand reached around him, groping his cock in hand. An involuntary shiver - one of the wrong kind - shot down his spine. He whimpered, trying to inch 

away from the touch. It was bad. This was bad but the force behind him was stronger, or he was just too weak to fight back. 

“We’re going to have a good time you and I.” The voice rumbled in his ear. Gavin tried to turn away but he was firmly planted into the cold wall. 

The hand around him smoothed along his hardening length - body betraying him. He...he didn’t want this... 

Behind him, the sound of a belt being fumbled echoed in his mind. He didn’t register it. Whatever blanket that fell over his eyes was thicker and clouded. He closed his eyes, mouth barely open to allow shallow slow breaths into his chest. 

A murmur of sick sweet nothings. “God, I knew you had a big cock the moment I saw you.” 

The body pressed closer into his. The sound of music flooding his ear. Something rigid poking into his ass, pressing harder, desperate. A door closing again. 

And then...then nothing. The weight pressed into him was gone and Gavin slid to his knees with his head still pressed against the wall. Limply, he turned onto his ass to sit and looked up. 

Another shadow loomed in front of him, heavily panting, fists by his sides and shaking. Nines stood before him in all his fearsome glory, LED at war with itself, fighting between red and yellow. 

Against the back wall he wished it wasn’t what he was seeing. But, this was the reality that tonight had become. From fun to sickening _ filth _. 

He charged forward wordlessly, the fury, the absolute hatred and disgust for the thing before him taking over. All he saw was red. 

He wanted to see another kind of red. His hand took a fistful of the rapists’ hair and ripped him off of Gavin, throwing him against the bathroom sink and mirror with a roar. The sound of glass shattering, porcelain and bone cracking, crashed and echoed in the bathroom. He turned, facing the human as he fell to the ground limply. Hot delicious satisfaction rose in his chest upon the color he desired seeping from the human. 

But it wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough. The hells that Nines had in store for this pathetic excuse of a sentient creature before him would _ never be enough _. 

He wanted to tear him piece by piece, limb from limb and hear him beg. How dare he target his love? How dare he try to-! 

Behind him, a meek, timid sound rose from Gavin’s throat. He turned around quickly and found tears to be prickling at the corners of his eyes. 

He was quick to stoop down in front of him and hold his face ever so gently as if he were glass. 

A quick scan proved that he was alright, despite the drunken stupor that the drugs had him under. His human tried to speak but a slurred version of his name and eyebrows pinching in confusion was all he could muster. 

Nines nodded, though remained silent. Even if he didn’t want to, he looked down just in case anything had indeed happened. He needed to know. Thankfully, his pants were still zipped and secure. But, he was aroused against his will, anything further-he couldn’t bear the thought, causing him to hiss in anger. Gently, he took Gavin by under his arms and hefted him into a nearby stall. He sat him on the 

toilet and leaned him up against the wall as carefully as he could. At least here he would be safe. “I’ll come back for you.” He murmured the promise before closing the door gently. 

“But first...” His tone darkened, turning towards the sound of broken mirror crunching across tile. The human still had fight in him. 

He barely could get onto his hands and knees. “What the fuck?!” He looked up, gritting his teeth in anger. Blood poked through his clothing and dripped from his nose and hairline where the sparkling shards were embedded in his scalp. 

Good. He ignored his questions. Demanding answers from him was the least of his worries. Should have been anyhow. Nines took the remaining bounds between him with angry purpose. Before the human could recover or make a move to rush him, Nines stood firm, forcing a right hook downward into his face. As his head was turned away from the blow, he took him by a fistful of hair yet again. The shout of pain was all the android needed to shove his hand into his mouth and _ pull _back. He yanked him back onto his ass, drool sputtering from the corners of his mouth as he shouted and clawed at his hand. 

Nines kicked his arm, nose scrunching at the force he needed to use to rid of his oh so futile struggles. “Behave.” He ordered over the screams of pain, his voice coming from somewhere deep within his throat and chest. His hand fell away limply, arm broken irregularly. 

With that, he turned, dragging him out of the bathroom by his upper jaw, leaving Gavin behind in the safety of the stall. 

The hectic kicks and screams of pain were futile, comical, and pathetic. Now traveling through the bar, glances that were earned. First at Nines and then down at the human who’s pants slid to his ankles as he dragged him, revealing that his underwear was tented. Purposely slowly, he dragged him, revealing the crimes we was going to commit to those around him. 

He looked ahead of himself with determination, face sculpted in that of emotionless neutrality. No one dared to intervene his version of justice. And if anyone did, they too would end up in the unstoppable storm that was he himself. 

What he wanted to do to this human need not of prying eyes. So, when he finally made it to the back door, he kicked it open, the cool night air prickling his skin, he looked down to the human in disinterest before it was twisted into a grimace of strain as he hefted and hacked him out into the alleyway. Pained screeches left him as he tumbled, his arm flopping uselessly. He came to a stop against the opposite building. Nines closed the door oh so casually as he listened to the entertaining tune of rightful human suffering. He turned towards the man and began his prowl. Hunched over, breathing raggedly, he cradled his jaw. The android stopped just before him, silent, dangerous, anger rolling off of him. His hands flicked anxiously by his sides. In the darkness, his LED bled a different sort of red. 

“Get up.” He ordered. His unwavering stance was shadowed by a flickering street lamp just nearby. Shadows danced over his darkening expression. 

With no choice in the matter, the human struggled to do so, “L-look man, I didn’t-I didn’t know that-!” 

Nines ticked his head to the side. “You would get caught?” He finished coolly, though his voice wavered with uncontrollable rage. Watching him attempt to pull his pants up with one good hand satisfied the sick side of him. Nines took a menacing step forward, hand 

pushing the side of his face into the harsh brick. How he wished to drag it downward and grate his soft flesh against the porous surface. He entertained the idea but it wasn’t good enough. Nothing would ever be enough. 

A sudden yell in protest and sobs that sprung from his lips caught him out of his thoughts. He ticked his head in interest. 

“I don’t want you to beg.” He tossed his head aside, releasing the pressure from his face. Nines took a step back. 

The human stumbled and leaned against the wall, cradling his cheek. He looked up. “Fuckin’ bastard!” 

He flung a careless fist and Nines easily caught it in his hand. He twisted his wrist harshly. Not enough force to snap it, not yet, but enough for it to strain. “Oh?” A sudden right hook was delivered. A tooth was knocked free from the blow. Blood trickled over his knuckles, the white plastimetal showing through honey skin. He pushed him back uninterested and bored. “Fight.” 

He snarled, cupping the blood that poured from his mouth. A messy cry of pain and frustration left the human. It was beautifully pathetic. He reached out to punch him again. Nines bared his teeth, taking his arm and twisting it downward, effectively dislocating his shoulder. He dropped him to the ground circling around him, like a shark with its prey. 

“I said fight.” Hissed breaths were taken through his teeth as blood dribbled to the ground in a long string. “I can’t!” 

“Oh? Just like your victims then...?” The best punishment was sick, unapologetic irony. The memory of his Gavin so small and scared pressed up against the disgusting tile of the wall, disoriented and confused. 

His partner. His love. Anyone would be helpless and the being who caused such a delusional state for their own twisted fucked up pleasures would be punished accordingly. 

The human looked up, his angered and broken face highlighted by shadowed light. “Fuckin’ android, what’s he to you?!” Blood mixed with spit splattered over his chin as he garbled out his words. 

He was everything. The reason why he was deviant, the reason he smiled, the reason he came home to a warm bed beside him, the reason for his job, the reason for warmth and embraces, the reason to live, the reason to take a bullet without a second guess, the reason he fought to protect innocents, the reason to love, the reason to fight the reason-! 

Everything.

_ Everything. _

Nines snapped. He planted a foot on his back and shoved him into the ground. His hands curled into fists by his side, shadows flicked over his darkening expression. 

“You wouldn’t care. You wouldn’t _ understand _. Couldn’t comprehend why because of how sick and melted your pathetic mind is. How disgusting and desperate you are for something that is only a fraction of what makes you human.” His eyebrows pinched together, scrutinizing the bug pinned to the wax that was below him. “No, you’re not human are you?” 

And neither was he for this moment at least. 

The human began to curse and fumble words that only an unintelligent hell-warped mind could produce. Enough. Nines dropped his foot, only to deliver the finishing blow. His foot cracking across the side of his head sent the man into unconsciousness. He took a step back and observed his work. Took sick pride in it. With a sneer of contempt, he looked away. 

Whoever would find him wouldn’t know what happened. And he doubt the man could go to the police and confess. No one would believe such an aloof, controlled and accurate police android such as himself could perform such a brutal punishment. 

Of course not. And that is what made him dangerous. Curiously, he looked down to his hands and body and then was on his way into the bar. The scene behind was forgotten. The worried glances sent his way were ignored. His knuckles were broken and bleeding blue, splotched with red against the white of his chassis. Only some blood splatter saturated his clothing and neck. 

They did not matter so as long as he fulfilled his promise undisturbed and went back for Gavin. The night out was promptly ended. He brought him home. 

When Gavin woke up, his mind was bleary and filled with cotton. Had he passed out? Did he get drunk last night? He didn’t remember much and when he tried to remember, he only recalled Nines running off with an android and then things got blurry. 

Did he go home with her? Did he end up with someone? He finally opened his eyes and sat up and regretted doing so instantly. His head pounded and his stomach lurched violently. His eyebrows creased together in pain as he dug the heel of his hand into his eye. Curious enough he found it crusted over as if he had been crying. 

Finally noticing the shadow that loomed next to him, he looked over and found the still form of Nines sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“N-Nines?” He called out, his voice cracking. He cleared it, cringing as he swallowed sandpaper and tried calling him again. 

There was no response from the android sitting next to him. Gavin blinked a few more times and swallowed thickly. His mouth was dry as fuck and his body felt heavy. His stomach felt raw and so did his throat. It was dry and raspy. 

“Nines, I...don’t...?” Nine refused to look at him and Gavin couldn’t understand why. He tried following his gaze that led out the window but there was nothing. He leaned forward, the light of the room and the darkness outside allowing him to see his reflection of a face that portrayed no emotion. A red LED burned in the night. 

“What happened?” He rasped. His stomach felt sick, if not a little heavy. He had never seen his android like this before. 

That was a lie. Once and only once had he seen his android shut down like this. “Aw fuck..” He groaned, getting out of bed to sit at the edge next to his android. 

He held his stomach and exhaled loudly and even then, Nines still didn’t move. “C’mon Tin Can, talk....” Gavin had enough of the silent treatment. He leaned forward, “I don’t know how to fix ya if you don’t fucking...” His voice cut out upon noticing the state of his android a bit closer. “...talk.” He finished lamely. His vision may have been blurry but the unmistakable color of red didn’t just come from his LED, it was across his clothing and skin as well. 

Nines continues to not look at Gavin, a distant look in his eyes & Gavin glanced down to see Nines’ knuckles were white, the chassis beneath having blue seeping through the cracks. 

Slowly, not knowing if Nines was an animal that could strike at any moment, he moved his hands forward and gently gripped onto the android’s own, damaged hands, swiping a thumb over the broken surface of his knuckles. 

And still even then, the android didn’t react. What the actual fuck happened and why couldn’t he remember? Why was his android locked up like this. What happened?! 

Gavin had to try another approach. He moved towards him shakily, cupping his jaw. “H-hey?” Nothing. 

Why didn’t he clean himself off? Did Gavin beat someone up, did he- “_ What happened _?” This time he begged. But as soon as Nines finally looked at him... 

Oh. Oh God... He remembered now and the memory caused him to close his eyes and bite his tongue from truly losing his stomach. The android moved quite suddenly, startling him. Before he could react, he realized slowly that Nines was holding him close in a desperate and long embrace. It caught him off guard but fuck, did he need it. He was almost...almost- 

“N-Nines? Christ. Oh, Christ I’m so sorry...” The human attempted to push him away to look him in the eye. To assess a starting point to where they could continue. To soothe, to cry, to yell. Anything. He wanted to know the story after he was out. After the drugs had taken him over. What... What became of the guy that tried to take him? 

He felt his android begin to shiver against the desperate hold, reluctant and refusing to let go of him. The hold made his ribs and bones crack but Gavin gave up trying to pull away. “I-I’m here-” 

There was a long silence, LED blinking red as Nines finally spoke. A barely there rasp in his ear, “I could have lost you.. I-I couldn’t lose you. I _ can’t _.” 

Gavin felt disconnected with the world in that moment, but he tried his damndest. He didn’t have to be face to face with the android to sooth the visible distress he was in. “Nines, baby, I-I’m okay- I’m okay. You got me. You got me...” Gavin mumbled, interrupting Nines’ own ramblings. He couldn’t quite figure out if he was convincing Nines or himself but neither were believing his bullshit words anyhow. 

Even though he was fucking terrified & Nines was too, holding each other was all that was left to do. Not to mention Nines’ ability to scan & see Gavin was fucking petrified of what could have happened if Nines didn’t get there quick enough. 

Finally, after a long moment, Nines pulled back and held Gavin’s face gently. Silver eyes flicked over his human before they locked with him. If this were any other moment, Gavin would confess just how much he loved him. 

“I don’t want you to know.” He murmured. “I don’t want you to know. But know that nothing happened to you and I found you in time.” 

“And what about you?” He brought his hand to his forearms, gripping them tightly. “What the hell happened? 

Nines shook his head, muttering barely above a whisper. “Irrelevant.” 

Whatever had happened clearly wasn't fucking irrelevant but Gavin was too hazy & tired to bother putting up a fight for answers. That could wait for later on, after the world stopped spinning and his stomach stopped curling in on itself.

There was a darkness in the android that held him so dearly as if his life depended on it, and, maybe it did. But, he supposed that it didn't matter. If Nines had said nothing had happened to him he believed him. He was grateful for his protection. No matter what Nines had done.


	22. Fevered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank is sick, Connor helps out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> I just want to apologize for the lateness of these chapters. I lost track of time and I tried my best to do one prompt per day but in order to complete this challenge in time I’m combining prompts together. Maybe later on I will separate them and make the chapters but until otherwise please enjoy.

Characters: Hank and Connor. Hankcon

Warnings: Some swearing

* * *

Connor always woke from stasis at exactly five in the morning. He would slip out from under Hank’s burly arms watch as he grumbled protests and went back to snoring. Some nights when Hank needed a good sleep he would sleep in his own room. And when he did, he would make his bed tidy, his room and desk if need be, and then make his way into the kitchen.

The coffee maker would already be gurgling to life making the precious drink that Connor insisted that Hank would cut back on. He would take a cup from the cupboard and place it on the counter _right_ side up.

The last time he had placed it upside down had the lieutenant, in his tired and not fully awake state, pouring hot scolding coffee all over his hand and the bottom of the cup.

He learned that lesson very, very, quickly. Humans were endearing yet exhausting when waking from their nightly slumber, especially his love. Slurred speech, messy bed head, and a not too awake mind trying to process the days’ agenda.

Hank had told him to not ask questions until the first cup was gone. This lesson he did not learn so fast purposely. It was humorous to listen to his human mumble under his breath, grumble, and groan about needing a new mattress, and curse about the weather.

Connor moved towards the fridge and leaned forward turning his nose up in mild dissatisfaction regarding the selection of food Hank had in stock. Alerted from the sound of the fridge being opened, Sumo made his way out of Hank’s bedroom and lobbed his way over to Connor. Without flicking his eyes away form the insides of the refrigerator he greeted him with a friendly scratch of an ear. There was a single egg left, a mouthful of orange juice, and no meats to fry alongside some toast. An egg sandwich with a lonely slice of cheese would make due for Hank’s breakfast for today.

“We are definitely stopping by the market after work, boy.” He murmured to him. A soft woof was his answer and Connor smiled. “C’mon let’s get you something to eat too.”

He scooped out a cupful of a specially formulated blend of dog food for senior canines and placed it in his bowl. He patted his hip gently. Alongside his partner, he too, was sore in this kind of late fall weather as well.

“Good, Sumo.”

It took ten minutes to prepare breakfast for Hank. After that he turned towards the rest of the house. The android didn’t mind acting as a residential android from time to time. Cleaning this and neatening that. He owed so much to the lieutenant. For wakening him, for making him realize there was so much more to life, for proving time and time again he always had hope that he wasn’t just a machine.

For loving him. For teaching him love. How to show and make it.

He made his breakfast to ensure he wouldn’t crave vending machine food, made a wholesome meal to fight the urge to drink in excess, wrapped himself around his human when the bad days came around, or just do laundry now and then was the least he could do to assure Hank’s own recovery and pay the priceless debt he owed to him.

Time and time again Hank had fought his logic. “You don’t owe me a damn thing, babe, honestly. You’re my partner.”

“But it goes both ways.”

Connor smiled upon the curt conversation with clear memory. It wasn’t the first time he called him his partner. Not because of their work relations but in a way that declared their relationship status.

It was a declaration that made his chest swarm with feelings of belonging.

The sensations continued even now. The android noted the time and frowned. It was after seven and Hank wasn’t up yet.

Normally he wouldn’t be up this early but it always made the android fret. Maybe after he had taken Sumo for a walk he would be up. So, as a precaution he left the sandwich in the microwave, kept the coffee burner and lights on in case he did wake when he was gone.

He left a sticky note on his mug saying he was out for a walk with Sumo and turned to the dog whom knew of the routine all too much.

But, even after Connor had walked Sumo, a few blocks extra to give Hank enough time to wake up, he still hadn’t come from his bedroom.

His LED swam a concerned yellow upon this worrying discovery.

He un-clipped Sumo from his leash and he promptly made his way back to his bed in the living room corner to chew on his bone.

Connor shucked his jacket off and made his way towards Hank’s room. He opened the door slowly to prevent the troublesome creak form startling him.

Slowly, he made his way over to his bedside and creased eyebrows against the dark. “Hank?” He murmured gently.

Connor placed a gentle touch on his shoulder. Upon the muggy heat seeping through his fingers his grip tightened ever so slightly. Worried, Connor flicked on the bedside light to the lowest setting.

His LED swam a permanent yellow as he looked over the old man.

Concern flooded through him. Not even the light could wake him up. “Oh, Hank...”

His t-shirt was soaked through with sweat. His body radiated heat even under the covers and a reddish hue had taken on his normally tanned skin now a pale color.

His hand drew to his forehead, under sweat drenched hair. He knew the results would prove to what he suspected but not this badly. His temperature was over a hundred and the way his breathing took on a dry wheeze had him concerned.

Hank was very sick.

“Hank?” He tried yet again, his hand traveling down to cup his cheek lovingly for a moment and then his shoulder. He gave him a gentle shake.

Already was Connor writing an official letter to Fowler that Hank would not be in work today or for a few days and a doctors note would be procured.

Grumbles left the old man as he woke from his unrestful slumber. He opened his eyes revealing sunken in blues that were highlighted by dark circles. The android felt nothing but worry for him.

“Con-?” He rasped.

“C’mon...” The android urged gently. The first step wast to get him to the shower to clean him up and open his airways with steam. The second was to strip his bed and get him some nice clean sheets and clothes.

“M’ late huh?” He shoved his face into the pillow but grimaced upon the wet spot from his sweat.

Connor smiled gently. “It’s alright, I notified Fowler of the state you are in. Worry about you for now.”

“Knew I was gettin’ sick.”

Connor bit his tongue. He was upset that he didn’t notify him of his state. It could have been prevented. The android slumped his shoulders. On the other hand he also reminded himself that Hank was an adult and that he wasn’t always supposed to be there for every need. It was a bitter truth that Connor didn’t like to admit.

He drew the blankets away from his love and the reaction was immediate. A curse flew from his lips as Hank curled into himself to preserve much needed heat. His shirt had ridden up to his chest revealing the bottom half of his tattoo, his sweatpants had also dragged downward. A sign that his sleep was anything but restful.

His shivering would no doubt be relieved once he was in the shower. And getting him to the bathroom as quickly as the tired human could let him would be the hard part.

Connor hefted him into a sitting position and then took him by under his arms to help him stand.

“Fuck, m’ gonna be sick.”

“Hold on.” He instructed.

He took his arm and slung it over his his shoulders guiding him out of his bedroom and into the bathroom across the hall. He gently guided him to the toilet, where he promptly fell to his knees and threw up.

Connor crouched next to him and placed a hand on his back rubbing the wet fabric along his spine. He was patient as another bout of sickness made him double over once again. When all that was left but the sour stench of bile, dry heaves, and pathetic groans, he flushed the toilet, stood the human up, and began to strip him of the cooling clothing that made him shiver.

Hank leaned against the wall and smiled drunkenly. “If this were any other time...”

“Behave.” Connor smiled just as lovingly.

Hank was obedient as Connor took the reminder of his clothing off and turned the shower on making sure the water was hot and steamy.

He didn’t notice the way Hank was watching him with adoration and love. “’m okay, babe. I can do the rest. Not my first time being sick. Just tired.”

Connor paused upon the realization and inclined his head. Embarrassment flooded through him. “But its my first time seeing you this sick. I’m sorry.”

Hank cupped both his cheeks and kissed his forehead. “It’s alright. I appreciate it.”

Connor smiled holding his wrist and kissed it in return.

As Hank stepped into the shower, tilting dangerously as the dizziness from the fever tricked his equilibrium, he caught him and breathed out an exhale of relief.

“I’m fine.” He assured once again.

Connor left him to his own business begrudgingly and left to strip his bed and place the linens in the wash.

When he made his bed he chose cool sheets and a warm blanket. He opened the window just a crack to rid of the hazy and heavy air.

A coughing fit across the hall had him returning to the bathroom. “Are you alright?” He asked pulling aside the curtain. Hank stood with his hand planted against the opposite wall. His head bowed over as he tried to regain his breath.

“Yeah, yeah...”

He closed the curtain and opened the medicine cabinet. “By the way, I made you coffee and breakfast. There wasn’t much so if you want anything I can stop at the market.” He decided he would go to the market alone while Hank stayed home to rest.

“Thanks Con’, I-” A series of coughs, wet and loose fell from the old man’s lips. It was a good sign the steam was helping break up the mucus. “_Fuck_.”

Not a moment later Connor stuck his hand into the shower offering Hank two large gel capsules.

It was a good sign that the man behind the curtain chuckled. At least he still had his spirits. The pills were taken from his hand

“Love ya ‘Con.”

“As do I.” Connor vowed.


	23. Bleeding Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of Muffled Cry...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whumptober2019 on tumblr made a list of prompts to complete every day for the whole month of October. I’m giving it a shot. Each chapter will be titled the prompt, characters, and warnings at the beginning.  
As always, read what you can handle and take heed to any of the warnings.
> 
> Give lots of love to Deviantalicee for beta reading this! Love u hoe <3

Characters: Mobster!AU Hank, Connor, Nines, Sixty, Gavin Reed.

Warnings: Blood, torture, swearing, sixty’s fucking antics, explicit bodily torture.

* * *

The memory of searing white agony. The muffled sounds of bone grinding and crunching. The slick squelching sounds of flesh and blood slithering between metal as it was cut away. The dull thud of something limp and heavy meeting the cold floor of the examination room. 

Something was tied around his shoulder. Angry words were said as someone tried to stem the bleeding. More searing pain as nerves were connected to artificial wires. Flesh was forced to mend with soft plastic, and bone was connected to metal. After he had been given a drug to make him awake another was given to make him the opposite after the slow agonizing walk through hell was finished. His body was weightless as he was tossed into a car. The world was blurry and foggy as it passed by. Did he sleep? Did he cry? Was he awake? Was he alive or dead? 

The world tilted as pain laced up his arm, at least that’s what he thought it was as he was dragged out and then left on the street. He couldn’t remember if the voice was apologizing to him or apologizing because he was him. It sounded familiar and almost sincere. If the silence that followed had anything to do with it, the person was gone and he was left to fend for himself. 

The sound of a car driving by. A splashing of a puddle came over him causing him to cry out. The coldness seeped deep into his torn and bloodied clothing. Violently, Connor shivered. He stood using the side of a building as support, gripping the heavy weight that hung from his shoulder to his side. Tears continued to stream down his face silently. Slowly, ever so agonizingly slowly, he dragged his feet, one ahead of the other, but the narcotics within his system made his word distort in all the wrong ways. 

After he had traveled a distance - how much he didn’t know - he tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground, the shock of attempting to catch his weight with the foreign thing by his side made an agonizing sound rip from his throat. He curled in on himself, bringing it closer, panting struggling breaths. 

Despite his swirling vision, he knew the familiar door and entrance way by heart. The world was dizzy and tilting as he dragged himself further and further. Using his new arm felt like salt in a far too large wound, seeing white cross his vision. Closer and closer he dragged himself to the very doorstep of his home, a trail of blood left behind from surgical wound left purposely undone. With so little of what he had left, he climbed one concrete step before he gave out, his arm continuing to bleed out. 

The door opened, the light from within flooding over and blinding him. “Going out for a smoke be right-holy shit!” The man had taken his first step and tripped over himself, rushing onto the street. He looked down. “Oh my god...” 

The man was gone and replaced with silence. The light from inside was blotted out once more by more shadows. 

“Connor!” He knew the voice immediately and the tears that fell from his eyes were real. He was hefted into the lap of his father. His sobs wracked his body as he slowly faded into darkness. 

When Arty had alerted his father of Connor’s return, as promised by Amanda for a section of their territory, he made sure to be there to help in any way or form. Nines watched with heaviness in his heart as Hank turned the brother over and revealed a cruel yet all too real fate they never knew he would have gone under. 

“I got cha, son, I got cha.” Their father murmured hectically. Nines’ hands twitched upon the sight of metal shining against crimson soaked clothing. He flicked his collected attention over to Sixty who’s eyes held death. 

“Get the doctor here,  _ right now _ !” Hank bellowed. Nines didn’t startle from the voice but Sixty did. He looked back down to his father whom had cradled the eldest against his chest and hefted him into his arms bridal style. Nines was wise to step aside from the duo. He wished he had had the same fate many years ago when he too came close to death. 

Hours later, Connor was bathed, dressed in light, fine cotton clothing, and placed in bed. An IV and cuff were placed around and in his arm to monitor his health. The family gathered around the brother and doctor. “There’s no more I can do, Mr. Anderson. His reaction to the foreign limb is natural and if left like this...” 

Hank’s voice turned dangerous. “So we cut his fucking arm off again?” The doctor’s silence spoke volumes. The growing anger the man bled was tangible. The doctor was wise to leave without another word. 

“Say the word, father.” Sixty purred. “Payment is due.” He swore his revenge. Nines nodded wordlessly, arms crossed. His one hand held his wrist to prevent twitching fingers from moving all too much. 

He hid it away behind his back. “Before anything. Before I enact my revenge for the desecration of my name, my son, he needs to live. My son needs to live. He needs...” His voice choked upon the anger and sorrow he felt in one giant flood. The sons were patient with their father’s word. “Doc said this thing runs on something.” 

“Thirium.” Nines quickly supplied. They both looked to him in question. “A man is curious by his kill when it is half machine and human after all.” Nines ticked his head upwards a smugness taking over his lips as he smiled. 

“So we find this thirium.” 

“If it were so easy. Blue Blood is an inclusive product developed and produced by the Sterns for their tech.” 

“So who do we hunt down?” Sixty urged. 

“G-Gavin..” The garbled voice between them made them all look down to the barely coherent delirious brother. 

Hank immediately held his hand, his real flesh and bone and brought it to his lips. “M’ here, son, I got cha...” He eyed the other hand warily. 

“Need to find...” His face screwed into pain as his hand was ripped away from his father to clench at the white metal. Phantom pain laced through his nerves. Nines narrowed his eyes as Sixty moved to hold his shoulders down. “Gavin Reed!” Connor barely gasped. 

Nines stepped out of the way as soon as the doctor rushed in with a mild sedative. His gazed hardened as he looked away from his still and quiet brother as his body continued to fight off the foreign limb. 

“Find him.” Hank growled. When they did not move, he gave the official order. “Hunt him down!” 

And hunt they did. They found him with another one of his kind. He was the first to go. Sixty came from behind and slashed his neck clean open and dropped him to the side leaving him to choke on his blood. 

Nines observed from the shadows. Gavin Reed had no time to react as he was gripped by the shoulders and tossed into the nearest wall. 

When he was pinned down successfully, Nines casually walked in front of him, brandishing a butterfly knife from his wrist out of seemingly nowhere. He pressed it against his neck lovingly while a larger blade was unsheathed from his hip and pressed against his arm. 

“Go ahead, you’ll be doing me a favor.” Gavin breathed. Nines hummed. “I wouldn’t play the victim if I were you.” Sixty smiled devilishly poking the still gurgling man with his foot. 

“I was ordered to! Just like your fucking dog killed Chloe!” Nine smiled. He liked the fight this rat had. He pressed the knife harder into his neck. Oddly enough the one against his arm stayed steady. 

“We need him, Nines.” Sixty reminds him bitterly. “Unfortunately.” 

“I brought him as close as I could. I would have been killed and you wouldn’t have gotten to him.” 

“You did us a favor by dragging his broken body down the street?” He pressed the blade further breaking skin. “No one would have found him, he dragged himself to our doorstep.” He remembered the trail of blood left behind on the cold damp concrete. The doctor had to perform an emergency transfusion. 

“I’m sorry I couldn't do anything! I tried, I tried to help as much...” Nines almost says something but bowed his head and looked away as if reluctantly. Sixty began to laugh - a sound similar to that of a hyena’s humored yowls. Nines was reminded as to why he was here and looked deep into emerald eyes. 

Disgust curled at Sixty’s nose and lips. “What kind of Stern feels guilt?” 

“What do you want?!” Gavin cried. 

Sixty growls. “We need your juice. You forgot to send him home with a goody bag.” 

Nines pressed the blade harder into flesh, a trail of blood leaving the blade. “Fine, Fine! I can get it to you-just- _ stop _ !” 

Nines dropped away the blade, tossing him to the ground. “Do as we say. Speak of this to anyone, I’ll send our dog again and this time we will send you home to mommy in a bag. Morning. Five A.M. sharp.” 

Gavin held his throat as he nodded frantically. The brothers watch as he stood and stumbled away. Nines placed his hands into his trench coat pockets, though the one holding the blade had a slight shiver if but for a moment. 

He considered the fleeing man. “He’s right you know.” Nines slid his eyes towards the youngest brother before walking past. 

“Shut up.” Sixty muttered snarkily, following after him. 

“Think about it. If you hadn’t killed their harlot, Connor wouldn’t be like this.” He spoke over his shoulder. Sixty paused and raised an eyebrow. A gust of wind carrying sewer on the tips blew past, fluttering Nine’s coat. 

“So, it’s daddy’s fault is what you're saying?” His tone was prying, judging, and a warning wrapped in one question. 

Nines was wise to regroup. “ _ Someone  _ is at fault.” 

“Yes, the Sterns. Are you-wait. Are you questioning morals right now because of that rat? After what they did to 'Con?” 

“An observation, dog.” He sneered, teeth bared dangerously in a growl. He looked back down the block in the direction Gavin had fled towards. 

Sixty followed it and then looked back to him. “Think he will keep his end?” Nines wanted to smirk but held back the emotion. “I will come back in the morning.” 

Nines waited at the mouth of the alley, his silver butterfly knife flicking between delicate fingers with sharp, almost inhumane movements of his wrist. Bored, he drew back the sleeve of his trench coat and looked at his watch with a sigh. The rat was fifteen minutes late. He poked a tongue over his teeth and cheek before standing up from leaning against the cold wall. 

Mid motion, he froze upon the sound of a safety being clicked off just behind his head. A humored smile crossed his lips. “So, brought a gun to a knife fight?” He revealed his butterfly knife before folding it and tucking it into his sleeve with one smooth motion. “Smart, rat.” 

Nines slowly turned around, eyes half lidded as he brushed his nose against the barrel of the gun lovingly. Dangerous silver blue eyes sharpened as he looked down to Gavin. “But you don’t intend to use it do you?” 

Gavin sneered. “I have what you want. Now, fuck off.” The gun began to shiver in his hand. 

Nines sighed, pushing the gun away as if it were a troublesome fly. “Cut the act out.” He took his wrist and squeezed, causing him to drop the weapon. The startled hiss was swallowed by feverish lips pressing against chapped broken skin. Gavin let out a surprised sound, dropping the metal case in his other hand to clutch at brown slicked back hair. After a moment, Gavin pulled Nine’s head back allowing his neck to be bare to the world. 

“You’re disgusting” 

Nine’s adams’ apple bobbed as a chuckle vibrated his throat. “Yet, here we are.” He purred.  Gavin latched onto his neck and suckled the skin lovingly. Nines closed his eyes a  breathy gasp escaping him. 

Gavin broke away suddenly, desperate hands clutching his trench coat. His voice cracked and the frantic mess that Gavin Reed always had been came through. “If I had tried to stop them they would have...” 

“I know.” Nines murmured. 

“I did my best to help, I couldn’t disobey-” 

“I know.” Nines assured again. 

“I would have left a packet behind but it would be too obvious! I’m so sorry Richard. I’m so sorry.” 

Nines kissed his chin gently, a flood of affection coming over him as he called him by  his real name. “We are caught in-between lies, money, and power play.” 

“And Chloe...poor Clo...” 

Nines continued. “We can’t forgive our families for their ways. We can’t blame one another for our sins.” 

Gavin broke away, shaking his head in frustration. “Where do we draw the line, Nines? Where?”

Nines sighed, bored again as he took the case in hand. He carded through his hair  flicking a stray, troublesome lock of hair from his eye. “We won’t. We can’t. We’re tied by cruel fate.” 

“Fuckin’ stop with that poetic shit, man.” Gavin bit, dug into his pocket and fished out a cigarette. “Shit, Nines, do you have any idea what it was like to drag him? All I saw was...it could have been you again!” He took a long drag, the embers at the end of the cancer stick glowing bright. 

“Connor knows the risks.” Nine drawled, eyes slowly finding his worried glare. He waved off a cloud of smoke as he exhaled it. 

“Clearly, we don’t!” 

Nines rolled his eyes. “Be smart for once, rat. Keep your mouth shut and your body less twitchy. You’re terrible at lying.” 

Silence blanketed them until Nines moved closer to the other. “Last night. Did I hurt you?” He cupped his chin. 

“Just a cut, asshole, fuck off.” He waved him off but Nines insisted to see the damage. The brother ticked his head. He was such a terrible liar. “You were aroused the whole time, so clearly-.” 

Gavin growled. “Fuck off, dog!” Nines smirked and turned away, drawing the collar of his coat around his neck. Gavin shook his head at him in growing frustration. 

“See you later, dog. I mean it.” 

“Might be sooner than you think.” He waved a trembling hand over his shoulder.

Nines placed the metal case upon his father’s desk. 

He raised an eyebrow. “That was easy.” Doubt was in Hank Anderson’s voice. 

“Sixty can be persuasive.” He smiled with a tick of his head towards his brother who lingered in the shadows of the room. 

“And if it’s laced?” 

“Have doc check it for foreign matter in his lab.” Nines suggested. “He said it was enough for a month or so.” 

“And then what?” Nines wanted to smirk at the irony of the words he was about to say but he held back, bit his tongue. This rivalry was growing more and more childish. It was no longer about turf, business, or money. It was pushing weight against the other. It was all ego now. Pathetic, pathetic ego. Gavin despised it because of his morals and ties to his bastard brother. Nines hated it and saw the humor of the cock and ball war and the irony of what he was as well. A traitor in more than one way. 

“We find the rat again and tell him to bring us more.” Nines voice was carefully made dark. “I don’t see us exactly becoming a Stern loyal customer, father.” 

He agreed with a hum. “Fine. Take this... _ whatever  _ to the lab. Have Chen check it out.” He placed his hand against his forehead in exhaustion. Nines took the case in hand and bowed his head respectfully. “Of course.” 

Nines went to the lab, dropped off a sample of the blue blood and went directly to his brother’s room with the rest of the thirium. He sat in the chair next to his bed and wasted time by watching his brother slumber restlessly. Slowly, he drummed his fingers against the case impatiently. Chen was taking too long. His fingers stopped tapping and he tilted his head back rolling his eyes. He stood up. Nines already knew the blood was clean. 

So, without the doctors notice, he took a syringe, pulled the blood from the bag, and flicked the vile a few times before spurting the liquid from the needle. Satisfied, he placed it into Connor’s IV. 

Blue clouded the line and slowly traveled into his wrist. As soon as the blood met skin, it began to glow. Ever so slowly, Nines depleted the dose and took a step back. Immediately, the metal arm that rested limply by his side glowed a blue light and the white chassis came to life. The artificial skin of the program took account of his tone and overlaid the robotic arm. 

The pointer finger twitched and Nines slowly made his way over to sit by his side. Taking his artificial hand into his own, he moved the fingers, exercising the sensors. Flicking at every inch of the skin. Connors face scrunched up from the annoying sensations. 

Calibrating such technology was simple. Integrating it with the user was harder. The brother lifted his shaking right hand. His eyebrows creased as he forced the skin to recede, white bleeding up into his elbow. Connor’s arm reacted in the same manner as his and allowed for an interface. He closed his eyes and quickly calibrated the arm. The tactile sensors, motion sensitivity, response delay, and of course- A blade suddenly unfolded from the side of Connor’s forearm. 

A smile lifted his lips. The weapon’s unlocking mechanism. Slowly, he broke away the connection, cringing as his limb shook more violently. When it was safer, he would take a dose himself. But for now, it was too dangerous at this moment in time. Nines felt his body growing warmer as his own body fought off the foreign limb. Without the stabilizing thirium to trick the human body into thinking it was part of its own, everything would shut down. 

Just as he lowered his hand and his own bled to the color of his skin, the doctor came into the room with a soft knock. “O-oh, Richard, I was not-” 

Nines smiled in greeting.  “Hello doctor. Any good news?” 

The doctor cleared his throat. “Chen says the sample is clean, well as clean as this disgusting vile blood gets, I suppose.” 

He smiled with a respectful nod. “Of course, Thank you. Chen already alerted me. I administered the first dose. Another would do no harm.” 

“O-oh? How did-” Nines stood, looking down at the man with the same smile, except it darkened considerably. “Call it a brother’s intuition, doctor. I’m sure Connor should wake at any moment.” 

Hank and his brother were alerted and soon after his brother woke with bleary eyes, more color to his skin, and a broken fever. The thirium had worked. 

And now that his son’s life was guaranteed, Hank Anderson gave a chilling order to his two sons. Nines moved quickly. 

They met once again, this time in the dark, early morning. As Nines travel down the empty streets, he held his shivering arm to his side, his forehead beading with sweat, the bangs sticking to skin messily. 

His hot heavy pants clouded the air in front of him as he staggered to their meeting place. The interface was the last straw that broke the camel's back. Whatever thirium that was left in his system had since depleted. His feet tripped over one another. Suddenly, arms 

wrapped around him before he could collapse. They set him up against the cold siding of a building as he slunk to sit on the cold ground. They too fell in front of him. 

“Damn, dog...” The voice cursed. 

“Rat.” Nines huffed with a smile. 

“I told you.” 

Nines drunkenly shook his head. “Was dangerous.” 

“Whatever.” From the case that Gavin brought, similar to that given to Nines for his brother, he took a syringe and filled it with the blue blood. Nines closed his eyes, his breathing becoming heavier. Sweat soaked his hair and clothing. 

A hiss left him as Gavin shucked away the heavy trench coat, the cold air biting his skin. 

“Hold on.” The needle went into his arm and Nines made a tiny, pathetic sound. “You’re so tough and every time you make the same sound.” 

“What can I say?” He breathlessly confessed.  “Every man has his weakness.” Tired, silver-blue eyes flicked up to emerald green. Finally they met and the air around them crackled. 

Gavin reached forward and cupped the back of his neck. “Stop being so stupid.” 

His breaths quickly evened out. In his lap, his arm glowed a healthy blue before the skin bled back into place. Nines leaned forward and kissed him weakly. “It’s true.” 

“Your brother.” He interrupted the moment purposely. He backed away, placing the needle and syringe into the case. 

“He’s fine. Awake, recovering. Father isn’t pleased. He’s out for you.” His eyebrows pinched in distress as his hand cupped his cheek. “He’s out for you, love” He repeated. 

Gavin paused, fear causing his body to become rigid. That and the fact that he used that dangerous four letter word. He ripped his hand away. “We can’t do this anymore. One of us will be gone and then it’s just going to make things harder and-” 

Nines leaned forward and kissed him, capturing and swallowing his words. Nines backed away a moment later with eyes heavy with delirium. “And we will find a way. I will protect you for as long as I can. For now, warn Amanda. Claim I put a bounty on your head. 

“Then she will come for you!” 

“I can fend myself off more than you can, rat. You’re not a fighter.” And it was the bitter truth. He was just a sibling strung into the family business affairs. 

Gavin nodded. Satisfied with his answer and his supply, Nines made a move to stand up. “Wait!” Gavin clenched his arm. “Just...wait for a second I-” 

Nines swallowed the dry lump in his throat. He nodded, giving in. “Me too.” They sat in the dark shadow of the streets until dawn. 


	24. Secret Injury/Broken Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nines is new to the department and he's wondering why his new partner wont talk to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whumptober2019 on tumblr made a list of prompts to complete every day for the whole month of October. I’m giving it a shot. Each chapter will be titled the prompt, characters, and warnings at the beginning.  
As always, read what you can handle and take heed to any of the warnings.
> 
> This is where i begin to combine prompts my dears! Hope you still enjoy and thank you for your support!
> 
> P.S. I promise to come back to this and expand on this idea! Mark my word!

Characters: Mute!Gavin, Nines

Warnings: swearing

* * *

When RK900 was first introduced to the precinct he was welcomed with shaky open arms. Connor was the one who had suggested that he would be best placed here. Being a military type android and his brother, a part of him suggested the proposal to Fowler.

Gavin was in need of a partner as well. After his own had transferred, the quiet reserved detective kept to himself. More so than usual.

Or so that’s what RK900 observed. His brother, Connor told him to wait and be gentle to Reed because of his lack of social skills.

A crude middle finger or a hissed ragged curse flew from his lips every so often when the android dared to look his way.

Was he emotionally stunted? Perhaps. He made interesting finds regarding the human. He was in the system not only as an officer but as a criminal. Armed robbery, possession of drugs, DUI. It was a miracle as to how he even made it as a detective looking to become a Sargent.

His upbringing was anything but perfect. A harsh household, and an abusive mother could have perhaps inspired him to be a man in blue than orange.

When he approached Gavin Reed sitting at his desk playing an obvious game of solitaire on his desktop, he smiled though it was cookie cutter and in no way genuine. “Hello Detective Reed, I hope you are aware that I am your new-”

The human stuck up a single finger, not directing his gaze away from his computer. He lowered it to sip at his coffee.

It was a predicted reaction from a human that did not like androids and thought of them to be replacing them. He could understand.

“May I sit here?” The RK900 asked sitting at the opposite next beside him. He didn’t answer.

“Go ahead big R, it’s all yours.” A feminine voice from beside him had them both looking up. Officer Tina Chen stood with her hands on her hips. “Don’t take it personally, he’s not much of a talker.”

He gathered this.

The detective shot miss Chen a caustic look before exchanging it between them, stood up, and walked away in a huff with a curse muttered under his breath.

“Don’t take it personally, he’ll warm up to you. Whether he knows it or not, you being here is the best thing for him.”

RK900 felt his patience thinning, not something he was used to. Time and time again when he attempted to work alongside the human he refused to speak or utter a word. An occasional curse under his breath was all he could muster.

For the past week it had been difficult. He asked Connor what approach he should take and his answer was simple yet infuriating.

“Let him come to you. Not the other way around, Nines.”

Nines.

There was _that _nickname as well. It wasn’t uttered a single time in an earshot of him, but people claimed Gavin gave him the nickname. So he could speak to everyone else but not him?

Something bubbled inside his chest. Uncharacteristically so. He was no deviant but frustration he could feel. Enough was enough. If he were to do his job to his fullest extent he couldn’t have his own partner bring him down. Against advice, against his own word, he approached the human in the break room getting coffee. His steps were predatory as he backed him into the counter. He was hunting and his prey was caught. Now, it was time to do what he was programmed to do.

Go for the kill.

But his program was interrupted. His prediction was cast out the metaphorical window. Gavin Reed did not react in a vicious, violent way as he was known for.

Instead the man coward and flinched away. A reaction that the android was not at all expecting. His LED spun a yellow as the detective looked back at him realizing he didn't mean harm. His shoulders fell.

“Why do you refuse to speak to me detective?”

Fear turned into aggravation and anger. The human suddenly stood firm and pushed him away by his shoulders. “_FuCk yOU_!” He whispered loudly and hoarsely. “_You’re smaRT! FiGure it out tin-hng!_” An expression of pain twisted his features as he clutched his throat with one hand and bowed forward.

His broken, straining voice spoke volumes. Realization dawned upon him.

Gavin was not purposely refusing to speak to him.

His LED spun red because of his errors. RK900 never made errors, he never made a mistake. These...strange sensations that came with the frustration of trying to work with this human, the sensations of simply getting him to speak anything to him, the sensation of guilt wracked through him.

Gavin Reed was mute.

Hesitantly he stepped forward reaching out to hold his arm in some form of comfort but the human ripped the grip away. His expression was angry, but tears were in his eyes as he looked up to him. With an aggravated hiss, still clenching his throat he rushed out of the break room.

Gavin did not show to work the next day. Nines sat at his desk staring at the opposite empty chair, LED swimming a yellow.

Carefully Tina approached from his side offering him a look of pity. “Pissed him off, huh?”

Nines was the one to remain silent now. He shook his head ever so slightly and looked up to the human. “I don’t understand, why didn’t you tell me?”

Tina’s demeanor fell. “It was for him to decide. Not us.”

“He is mute.”

Tina sat down in Gavin's chair in exasperation. She clasped her hands together, pursed her lips inward, and then spoke. Her voice was quiet and heavy. “He wasn’t always like that.”

Nines LED continued to swim a yellow.

“He hates androids because...” She shook her head looking away a defeated sigh leaving her. “It was one of the first deviant cases we had. Gavin responded. Got too close trying to save it from its own knife. He stabbed Gavin.” She tapped her throat. “Then he slit his own and died bleeding out.”

“Gavin...” She continued. “The android was precise, you guys always are. With all the tech nowadays you would think he could be fixed up but...” She scrunched her nose up shaking her head in disapproval.

“You told me I was the best thing for him. I fail to see the truth in what you say.” Nines looked away. “I...failed.”

When the officer did not reply immediately, he looked up to Tina who was not trying to betray humor. In the end she gave way with a genuine laugh. “Nah, he’s throwing his hissy fit and he will be back again. Just wait, big R. It’s not everyday that man gets cornered in the break room and gets a fear woody.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.”


	25. Abandoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon can't make the jump at Stratford Tower and is left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> If you guys are interested, I have a whumptober2019 playlist on my spotify. Just look for me: Leonixon

Characters: Simon, Markus, North, Josh

Warnings: Blood, swearing

* * *

Simon looked up into his friend eyes, giving into the inevitable. Only deviants could feel this pain and for a moment, the android was envious of the ones who hadn’t. This pain was both physical and metal gnawing at what remaining strength he had left. He wasn’t made for battle or fighting. He was made as a domestic assistant. And even through his deviancy his nurturing and quiet personality always won in the end.

A SWAT team was already closing in on them, and fast. He gritted his teeth, when he pressed a hand to his leg where blue blood bled out at a quickening pace. No doubt the bullet was still in there. With bleary eyes, he watched his companions speak of him, muttering the decisions they could take.

He wanted to speak up and tell them to just go. He...he could fend for himself.

Simon blinked rapidly head falling back against cold metal. It was a lie. The most he could do would be to hobble away and then meet his end by the gun. Or he could hide and bleed out. Either way... He would do anything to secure the safety of Markus. The leader of Jericho of whom he loved so dearly. So, quietly, he stayed in his shadow and gladly did so. He allowed them to decide _his _fate.

Finally, Markus turned toward him taking the handgun from his hip and presented it to him. “I’m sorry Simon, we gotta go.”

It was a short moment but Simon wanted to remember it for as long as he lived. Mismatched eyes told everything. Simon had been a deviant for a long while now. He knew when an android was truly in tune with their emotions. And he could see many that crossed his face.

But the door was now being breached.

Regret, loss, pity, anger were left behind as Markus and the others prepared to make the jump. And he? He began to crawl on his side and came to an agonizing stand to rush toward an empty storage unit. Quickly, he opened the door and shoved himself inside, keeping the gun in hand and at the ready.

Never would he admit it. This is what it felt like to be abandoned. It was under reluctance but in doing so something in Simon’s chest ached. Outside he heard the frantic voices and footfalls of the SWAT team. No shouting. No bullets.

A smile came to his lips. They did it.

He remained silent, not daring to make any motions or breathe too heavily. The only source of motion was the swirling red light that illuminated the dark.

Around and around he watched it. After he had counted the cycling for the one hundred and second time, he fell into an emergency stasis

Simon waited in the loud deafening silence that rang in his hearing. He had tied his leg off with a scrap of his clothing, and already were automated healing programs taking place. The bleeding had stopped but the pain was still there.

Was it days? Was it weeks? Simon didn't know. All he knows now is that his LED had begun to cycle a yellow and now a calm blue as he healed.

He had to get out of here. He was going mad. His thoughts going around and around like the damn LED on his temple. Was Markus alright? Had it been a month? What in ever loving hell day was it?

Simon made the decision and finally opened the door to the storage unit. He collapsed forward into the snow the coldness feeling wondrous against his skin. The sensation of something biting and cold aside from the hard and hallow metal that encased him. It was nighttime.

Numbly he stood able to put pressure on his leg but not much. Slowly, ever so slowly, he made it to the door that felt like only a day ago was being breached by human sent out to kill them. He looked around the rooftop once more before he turned to the door. There was no sign that such a pivotal moment in history had happened here.

Against all odds he made his way down the stair case and then opened the door. The room was quiet and dead, the equipment abandoned for the night and ready to be turned on for tomorrow morning news. Quickly and numbly the android made his way to the service elevator.

He mapped out his escaped, breath becoming heavier and heavier as he traveled throughout the seemingly endless halls. As he wound his way through every nook a cranny to avoid the security cameras, his chest felt as if it were about to burst more and more. But it never did. The fear stayed within and he managed to keep his mind level.

And soon, rA9, his feet met the solid ground outside an emergency exit he had bypassed to remain silent.

Simon took this moment to collapse to his hands and knees, a drunk smile crossing his lips as emotions came flooding through him at such a heavy rate.

Relief, fatigue, pain, fear.

To be continued...


	26. Ransom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does
> 
> I want to take you all for the views and kudos. Even if you pop on by that means a lot as well. <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor goes to visit his love after work and makes a chilling discovery.

Characters: Human OC Ana, Connor, Sixty, Hank, Captain Allen

Warnings: Swearing, Sixty’s fucking antics, blood, violence, swearing

So, I have a flower shop AU where a florist falls in love with an android that visits her shop one day whom so happens to be Connor. You can read it (Half Past Five) with or without context. Enjoy U.U

* * *

Half past five couldn’t come around fast enough. It had been a few days since he had last seen Ana. An all nighter had him exhausted and another breakthrough in a case had him working a double shift.

Vanessa Clarke, A woman who abducted people with riches to hand over their money. It didn’t matter if it were android or human. If they complied they lived and if not they were found the next day with a single bullet to the head. Finally they had gotten close. This time Clarke had left behind her next target. A blurry photograph enhanced digitally. They had a name and a location where she was to strike next. Henry S. McCain owned a law firm. A rather successful one.

Before tomorrow's take down, he wanted to see his love. With the dangers of his job ever looming over him every day, he always wished to spend as much time as he could with family and friends. Though he only held a handful, they were dear to him.

He walked down the street with a to-go cup of lavender tea with honey and a dab of cream. Exactly how sweet Ana, liked it.

Just a few more steps brought him to an open windowed storefront. With a smile he opened the door, a small bell alerting the inside of a newcomer. “Ana?” He called, LED swimming a lovely blue.

Just to see her face made his thirium pump do strange things. Her smile made him smile. The way she fumbled over words when trying to tell a joke but her own excitement got in the way. The way her cheeks flushed after he kissed her forehead gently. The way she held a calm conversation as she made arrangements for a small countryside wedding.

She was the most beautiful human he had ever met. And seeing her every chance he had was a promise he took seriously.

He walked to the marble counter and set down her tea. She must have been upstairs. A piece of yellow lined paper on the counter caught his attention and he placed fingertips upon it to grip it. But in doing so a pile of photos just under it, at the edge, dropped onto the floor.

He took an alerted step back watching the photo scatter. Slowly, he went to onto one knee reading the note in hand.

It was simple. Three sentences.

_“You’re getting too close. _ _A_ _llow me to remind you-I am closer.”_

It was enough to make his pump stutter. Cold fear shot down his spine. His eyes flicked hectically to the ground LED processing a yellow and red. Photos of Connor and Ana standing outside the shop hugging or kissing. Another freeze frame of them walking down the street. Holding hands while crossing a busy intersection, sipping tea at a tiny table outside The Whistling Kettle.

The android stood his head in disbelief, thirium pump pounding against his chassis. “Ana?!” He called out more loudly and firmly. He traveled around the shop expecting her to jump from a hiding spot. To laugh and say that she tricked him. But she never did. He climbed the stairs that lead to her apartment above and explored her small living space.

His foot fell onto something, cracking under his weight. He stepped back and the dread only filled him more. Her glasses that were broken in two were now cracked and twisted.

This wasn’t real. This…

She was gone.

And their killer had her.

A soft meow and chirrup greeted him. Stovepipe, her black cat, came from hiding, glad to see a person of a familiar face.

“Stovepipe...” He said in pity

The phone suddenly rang causing the android to jump in surprise. The cat scurried back to his hiding spot under the couch.

Carefully he made his way to the phone upon the end table and picked it up exactly on the third ring. He brought the receiver to his lips and paused a beat before speaking. “Hello?” He answered

“Hey, baby boy.”

The voice sent chills down his spine. A voice that had one too many cigarettes added with a bag of gravel on the side.

“Who is this?” He demanded firmly.

“Did you get my love letter?”

His LED now swam a solid red. The grip on the phone tightened as well as his throat as anger bubbled from his stomach. “Vanessa.” He turned towards the window and looked down to the street below and then to the surrounding buildings. She was watching this whole time.

“Mn, I love it when you say my name like that.” A breathy chuckle. “You’re a cutie and so is your girl here.”

Ana.

“What do you want?” He was designed to negotiate. To make deals and get what he wanted out of his prey of choice. This was no different. Personal relations could not be pushed aside. The one human he could ever love so dearly was begin held hostage and who knows what else she had done to his sweet Ana.

“You know what I want.”

Connor grit his teeth. “No.”

“Now, you don’t mean that baby boy, because you see, I have your girl.” The phone shuffled, skin against the receiver before it went clear again. Clarke’s voice was distant. “Say hello, sweety.”

The phone was suddenly muffled by heavy breathing and quiet sobs. “Con-Connor?” Her voice was so scared but hearing her alive was all that mattered.

“Ana?” His thirium pump jumped to his throat, the anger being traded for temporary cold focus. He looked outside the window looking around to every window. The thought of being so close and yet so far away. She was teasing purposely.

Her voice was so scared but hearing her alive was all that mattered. “Listen to me, you’re going to be alright. I’m coming for you, okay?”

“I-I know...but...I’m scared.” Sobs were breathed into the phone. “I don’t...I don’t want to die.”

“Ana, you’re not going to die.” There was cry of surprise and her voice grew distant. “Listen to me. You’re-!”

“I have your girl, right?” It was Vanessa disgusting voice again, reiterating the cold reality. “And we don’t want nothing bad happening to her do we?”

Connor swallowed closing his eyes in defeat. “How much?” He grounded out and opened them once again.

“Seven hundred thousand, and a visa to get me out of here.” She sang.

Connor swallowed the anger that continued to rise in his throat. “Where?”

“Where you were going to find me all along, babe.” A chuckle.

A cry of fear echoed in the background causing Connor to step forward. But where? Where would his automatic reaction get him? “As soon as you can the better. Little Ana here doesn’t look so good...”

After a beat of silence from Connor, she chuckled.

“I’ll be waiting.” The phone hung up and all that remained was the steady tone of a dead line.

After the call ended, Connor had returned to the precinct and rushed his way into the bullpen.

“Connor?” Hank looked up from his desk, brows knitted in confusion. “I thought you got out early to see ya girl?”

“She has her, Hank. We have to do something. We need to move, now!” He placed the handful of photos and the note on his desk. Blinking in confusion, Hank placed his hands up. “Whoa, whoa, slow down kid. Who has who?” He noted the way his LED swam a solid red, how his hair was disheveled and his tie was uncharacteristically loosened around his neck. He was a worried mess.

“Vanessa Clarke has my Ana. She called her home just as I got in and demanded seven hundred. She’s after McCain and Ana’s next.”

Hank’s eyes fell down to the photos on his desk taking in the evidence of her stalkings. She knew when and where to strike. Hank took the note and set his jaw.

“We got too close. So she got closer...and...” His sentence strayed off as he noticed a person walking closer to them.

Nearby Sixty slunk next to his frazzled brother. “Is...everything alright bro?”

“No.” He snapped in his direction brushing him off purposely. He turned back to the lieutenant. “If we don’t go after her, I will.”

Sixty placed his hand up, a smile coming over his lips. “Okay wait, hold on, pump the brakes, Connor.”

Hank nodded. “I agree kid, we-”

“Where is my brother and what have you-”

Before he could finish, the eldest RK unit took him by the collar of his jacket and tossed him into the nearest cubical wall. “Shut up! For once just shut up!”

“Hey! Connor! Enough!” Hank stood up, walked around his desk and attempted to part them. Connor backed away but didn’t let go. Hank’s heart damn nearly broke upon the sight of Connor’s vulnerable expression.

For once Sixty didn’t fight back but instead stepped down from Connor’s loosening grip. The eldest gave in, face twisting in pain as he bowed his head forward into his chest. “She has her...”

“Connor...” Sixty blinked placing his hands on his shoulders in comfort.

He eyed their adoptive father and he nodded firmly. “C’mon, Fowler’s still here. Let’s talk to the big gun before we shoot off.”

Fowler only agreed to build a team to take down Clarke only because it was prevalent to their interests and that McCain’s life was clearly threatened.

It was disgusting in Connor’s opinion but if the result ended with Ana being back into his arms safe and sound then so be it. They arrived to the destination with the money in hand and a plan. Sixty looked around and noted a perfect visage from atop a building directly across the office. He spoke into the mouthpiece that offered communication with Captain Allen's team.

“I’ll be watching.” He indicated his eyes with two fingers before pointing them back at the building. “Go get your girl.” The brother rushed away slinging the long case across his back.

Connor watched after his bother before turning to the innocent storefront of the law firm that held not so innocent intentions within.

He waited until his brother had given him the go ahead. The android stepped out of the vehicle and walked into the small office, thick briefcase in hand. It smelled of leather seating, warm printer paper and blood as he stepped inside. Nearby, McCain was slumped in his desk chair, a single drip of blood flowing down his forehead and nose. The scene behind him wasn’t so clean. He swallowed thickly turning his voice towards the back of the room. They were too late.

“Clarke!” He shouted, LED cycling a processing yellow.

A beat of silence and then the voice that sounded like the one on the phone replied. “Is it just you?” Except her voice in person was worse.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

Out of the shadows a middle aged woman came forward holding a thin and short woman by her arms that were tied behind her back. “Weapons. Toss them.”

Connor set his jaw firmly and did as he was told taking his standard issue glock from its holster and sliding it off to his left._“_

_ Jesus, Connor, what are you doing?”_

“Good” She praised. “Do you have what I want?”

_“Shut up.” _He ordered back to his brother through their internal communication link.

Wordlessly, Connor showed her the briefcase as he made eye contact with Ana. She was trembling visibly. Either wise to stay quiet or was just too scared to move or speak at all.

“Good.” She revealed a gun from behind her back and pressed it against Ana’s head. Her now purposeful facade dropped. She was so brave for so long, the cold metal breaking her last strand of her strong will. Frantic sobs poured from her lips.

“No funny business. Hand it over.”

Connor’s heart ached. Anger flowed through his veins. He fought every nerve in his body from charging forward and wrecking whatever intent his hands will may upon the human before him. But he couldn’t. He had to hold back. Couldn’t speak the assurances that he held back causing his throat to form a lump.

“Release her first and its yours.” He opened the case and revealed that indeed the money was there, neatly counted and placed in neat stacks. In the end, at least if all went according to plan, she wouldn’t get to touch a single bill.

“Nope. Money first.” She clicked the safety off, Ana squeezing her eyes shut. “_P-Please_.”

He bowed over hand up in surrender as Connor slide the suitcase across the ground. It stopped two feet away from her.

“Alright, fine, you have what you want, now hand her over.” He spoke evenly and steadily.

“_Connor hurry up I cant get a clear shot from up here. I’ll hit Ana.”_ He made note of his brothers’ unfortunate snag.

_ “I’m trying.”_

“I’m sorry, baby. But I’m not that simple. Connor watched as Clarke took a step forward to look down at the case and flip it open with her foot. She dragged Ana unwillingly.

_“__Shes going back on her word, make a move!” _Connor’s jaw clenched tightly. His voice dripped anger. “We had a deal!

“And I’m going back on it. I have to kill my targets, Connor boy. It’s kinda my thing.” She scrunched her nose up in a cute little fashion pressing the gun harder into her head. Her finger pressed the trigger ever so slightly.

Glass suddenly shattered as Sixty finally took the shot. The one step forward was all he needed. The bullet hit true into her shoulder, the force casing her to trip back. Connor took the moment to rush towards Ana. He took her by the crook of her elbow and placed her behind himself as he kicked the gun aside. Slowly he backed away from Clarke as she moaned in pain on the ground.

_“_ _Nice shot.”_

_“_ _Allen’s comin’ _ _in,_ _ now.”_

“You’re alright, love.” He murmured wrapping his arm so tightly around her. He slowly backed out of the office making sure he kept her face pressed into his chest as he walked out. She didn't need to see anymore of this scene. The dead cold body of McCain, the woman that held her hostage, the broken glass and blood. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” He breathed placing his lips on her cheek and keeping the kiss there for a long moment. She continued to sob and cry her little heart out clutching onto his jacket desperately.

From the street beyond, a black armored vehicle pulled up. Allen’s team immediately hit pavement to secure the scene.

“I want to go home. I just want to go home.” She finally croaked against his chest.

“I know my love. We will. We will...” For now he held her in his arms watching as SWAT moved in to take over the scene. He looked away, his body relaxing, shoulder falling as the realization that it was over and Ana was safe In his arms

Sixty came up from behind the duo and placed a hand on his shoulder. The young woman looked up and sought an embrace from the brother as well.

Gladly he held her tightly kissing the top of her head.

She was safe. And that was all that mattered.


	27. Beaten/Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nines is repaired after being severely injured. When he comes back online, something is very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does

Characters: Nines, Sixty, Connor, Human OC Kayla

Warnings: Blood, violence, swearing.

* * *

_>Kayla Grant_ _   
_

_ >twenty-nine years old_

_ >studied forensics and advanced technology theory in Massachusetts University._

_ >Parental linage retired _

_ >Children: None._

_ >Current employment: android technician under the DPD branch_

Nines looked away from the body on the floor in disinterest. He had awoken laying on a medical table with her standing by his side. A pre-construction was made. She was quickly silenced with a firm blow to the head with the corner of a surgical tool tray.

She would remain unconscious for twenty minutes.

His attention drew up to the android standing before him that had begun it all. He was his mission. Once completed, he would return to Amanda and follow further instructions.

“Nines...” RK800 placed his hands up in a placating manner taking a step back to give him allowable space. “Whatever happened, we can fix it. Just let me...” He tentively reached forward artificial skin peeling back from his hand and forearm.

RK900 huffed in bitter humor. “An interface? And compromise me? You think me of a fool.”

Connor’s hand wavered ever so slightly. “Fight it, Nines. This isn’t you.”

He paused deciding to entertain the RK800. This ‘Nines’ the RK800 continued to speak of was unheard of and foreign. Was he acknowledging _him_ as the name?

>>>0v3r13d3 f41l3D

His eyebrows knitted together upon the error as he refocused his true intentions once again. “313 248 317-51 you have failed your mission to stop the uprising of deviancy. You have disobeyed direct orders to hand yourself over for deactivation. My instructions are clear and you will not delay me any more.”

Connor’s hand lowered as fear traveled across his expression.

>>>Compliance program activated

>>>new objective: eradicate predecessor.

“You will be terminated by my hand.”

Kayla came to with a wicked pounding in her head. Had she drank the night before? No. This pain was much worse. She noted the cold floor, the tools that were once ever so neatly placed upon a tray with precise accuracy were scattered. She blinked trying to rid the way the world tilted.

A sudden splotch of too familiar blue wetly slapped across the floor just before her line of sight. Her mouth opened to let out a cry but a deeper instinct told her to remain quiet. Kayla silently slid her attention to two figures grappling in her blurry vision.

Nines and Connor.

Something warm slid down the side of her head as she began to move from the ground into some sort of direction of up. It was all coming back now. Nines had been injured during a shootout. The bullet had made it through his spinal strut severing several main lines to his processor. When placed on her table, barely alive and twitching with incomplete errors scroll across his vision, she did all she could do to bring him back to his normal state.

Upon Connor entering the room, upon Connor’s concerned soft voice for his brother’s well being, the android had seemingly gasped back to life. She was simply in his way. And then it was blank.

Connor stumbled backward, enough to almost trip on her body. “Connor...” She whispered.

He didn’t look down to her. He didn’t acknowledge her for her safety. He spoke lowly.

“There’s a glitch. Amanda's AI is looping dormant instructions. He’s setting out to enact where she left off with him.”

Nines slowly made his way towards him. She flicked panicked glances from the imposing and strong android that stalked forward to the one that placed a hand out to prevent him from coming closer. But other than that Connor did nothing to protect himself. A line of thirium came from his broken nose and part of his face was cracked and splotched, showing through the white plastimetal of his chassis.

He resettled his stance, a slight limp to his left leg. As a technician, Kayla was to be in tune to an android’s anatomy.

Nines plucked a scalpel from the counter nearby twirling it in his hands delicately. His eyes looked up to Connor and he was already moving, throwing his arm to slice at his throat. Connor stepped to the side. He dodged each attempted blow, gritting his teeth as he looked behind himself to avoid tripping over lab equipment.

At the last minute, Connor gripped a mechanical arm used for assisting a tech in repairs and swung it at the android. Nines gripped the metal with one hand and broke off the damned arm with a loud crunch and spark of electricity.

The room was silent as both parties realized what strength it took to perform such an act. In this moment Kayla forgot just how strong Nines was. How much strength he always held back. But now that he wasn’t himself there was no effort to hold back.

“Connor!”

Her warning was of no use, wasted air, as Nines rushed forward again, this time struck Connor across the face with the sparking end. He was faster and Connor was already weakened. The android stumbled backwards into shelving and crumbled in a heap. He didn’t have time to recover. Nines pulled him to stand, danced around the android to bring it close to his neck, and pulled. A choked grunt bubbled from his lips. He held onto the arm, desperately attempting to choke out his dear brother’s name.

And that’s when she noticed the difference between the two brothers. Connor was bloodied and beaten while not a single scratch nor blow had been seemingly delivered to Nines. He did not struggle nor fight back. If this was done purposely she wouldn’t have a doubt.

Nines pulled back even further, Connor’s LED blinking a red as artificial breathing was cut, and thirium flow was slowed to the processor, His struggles became lazy, fingers clawing at his brother’s hands halfhearted and weak.

“R-run.” He rasped, foaming blood sputtering from his lips.

Wordlessly Nines released the arm around his neck, spun him around, and slammed his face into the table keeping him pinned there. Horror crossed her face as brown eyes looked down to her. This was her fault. If she had been more careful. Maybe been more delicate, had asked for help instead of letting her stubbornness take her over. Maybe none of this would have happened.

She opened her mouth to speak but her voice caught in her throat. She tried again. “I-I can’t leave you.”

“Do as he says, Miss. Grant.” Nines ordered lowly and considerately. Her skin crawled upon his droned voice.

“Do it!” He continued despite her protests.

A grunt of pain left him when Nines pressed him harder into the table. The RK900’s hand bled white from the strain. “You may not wish to witness this.” He warned. The same scalpel from before was slowly pressed into his spin, just below his neck. He was attempting to commit the same injury that had been done to him. But why?

Intesity alit his eyes as the RK900 android focused on his precise work. Kayla couldn’t take her eyes away from the scene. It was as if a pack leader was testing the patience and resistance to it’s underling. A wolf with it’s teeth bared.

She looked away as Connor yelled out in pain, his struggling hand twitching. Her eyes drew to the motion. Slowly, he was going to make him immobile from the neck down. Her eyes flicked to an object next to her. “Fight back, Connor.” She murmured. If he wouldn’t then she would.

He closed his eyes in regret. “Warn Sixty. He’ll...go after-” A shout of pain ripped through his words to be.

Kayla stood quickly onto shaky feet, gripping the tray that she had been knocked out with. With a pitiful cry she struck Nines across the face. A loud slap and clatter when the damned thing slipped out of her grip ensued.

Slowly, Nines looked over to the little human she was. Sliver gray eyes sharpened with deadly intent. Kayla stumbled back her heart jumped into her throat upon the glare that made her blood run cold. “I offered you mercy.”

Connor took this moment to break free from under his grip though his motions where jumpy and glitching. He twisted out of the way standing in front of her with a hand behind himself. The other reached to the back of his neck to pull the tool free. Kayla watched in horror as thirium began to flow down his neck. Immediately his motions began to jump and glitch.

“_Go_!” He was doubling over against his will, twitching to stay upright.

Nines continued to stare her down and she couldn’t pull away from the haunted glare.

Her breath was taken away. She was just a distraction, background noise. But to him she had ruined his greater plan and now she was a threat.

In her hectic retreat she crashed into the door and fumbled for the handle. She opened the door and ran.

Her head swam, a new trickle of blood continued to trickle down her temple as she traveled through the halls and called for the elevator. She would not abandon him. Not when this was her fault.

Override failed>>>

“I don’t want to hurt you Nines.” Connor coughed, stumbling backwards.

RK900 noted the odd happenstance of the RK800’s self preservation failing. It should have been easy. He would have already off-lined him. Would have had his thirium pump in hand and tossed it away and that would have been that. RK900 did not waste time with trivial satisfactions of the kill.

He did not waste precious resources. He was quick with the kill. Emotionless. Numb.

“You rather die then.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

“No, I know the real Nines is in there somewhere. You would have killed me by now but you’re fighting it, fighting her. Remember where you are Nines.”

“This Nines you speak of means well to you. I don’t. Give up and stop stalling the inevitable. You failed RK800. You knew the consequences if you did.”

Connor smirked, the sign of victory going just as fast as it appeared. “Then why am I still online?”

The LED on the side of his head flashed form a calm blue to a yellow and Connor celebrated the small moment of hope.

Nines clenched his hands into fists and stalked forward. Connor closed his eyes. No matter hwat he would not bring harm to his younger brother. This was not his fault. Nor would harming him solve anything. He awaited the touch of familiar deadly hands.

Kayla stumbled out of the elevator placing a hand against the wall to steady herself. The heel of other was pressed into her eye as she fought the wave of dizziness. Knowing that the blow was hard enough to make her black out, a concussion was wrecking havoc on her body. Her stomach felt queasy but she pushed on. Forced herself to do so. She ignored the curious and concerned glances. She ignored the people that stopped and reached out with concerned hands. She pushed them away mumbling incoherent words that were added up to the simple lie that she was fine.

Her lab coat slipped form her shoulder as she made it to the main bullpen of the precinct looking for her android lover. “Sixty...” She murmured.

There was a sudden loud laugh along with a shout of indifference. She knew that laugh. Sixty was close. She made her way to Tina’s desk where Sixty was no doubt antagonizing her.

Immediately his humored glistening eyes looked up from the officer to behind where she stumbled forward. If this were any other moment she would have marveled at those beautiful browns that twinkled in such mischievous intent.

But it was erased and replaced with panic and alertness. Sixty pushed aside Tina who voiced her protest but then cut herself off when she saw why she was harshly pushed aside.

“Kayla, babe?” He caught her into his arms and placed a hand ageist her forehead securely. He looked at the blood on the side of her head and then her eyes frantically. “What the fuck?”

Tina was already guiding her to her desk chair to sit. Kayla however gripped his forearm in desperation.

“N-Nines. I-don’t know what I did. I’m so sorry I-”

“What?” Sixty shouted upon the name of his brother. “Kayla, focus, tell me what happened!”

She closed her eyes tears finally, finally springing from her eyes. “He’s after Connor. Amanda-” She confessed.

Upon the name he released the grip on her and brushed off her hands. “Tina, look after her.” Sixty bounced on his heels and pointed at her. “Stay here.”

She had no time to protest or warn him that Connor wanted him to run away and not go into the fire head first. But she should have known better. Sixty didn't run away from anything. He ran towards it instead.

Sixty immediately spun around and rushed for the stairs. He had no time for the fucking elevator if that bitch’s name was involved. He used his whole body to push open the door and flung it open. Hands gripped metal as he pulled his body over the ledge of the staircase.

Railing to railing he dropped down until he landed on the final floor on his hunches. Sixty rushed out of the stairwell and down the hall until he made his way down to the all too familiar lab.

Countless times he had been repaired in here. Maybe had some raunchy sex with Kayla, and had a few mental breakdowns in her arms in here.   
He placed his hands on the open door way and looked inside and steeled himself for whatever lay ahead.

And now it was the home of the deadly intention of their middle brother.

He set his jaw firmly. Nines was ready for him. With an arm wrapped around his brother, a hand placed over his eyes he glared at him, those silver blue eyes daring him to make a move. Daring him to do something. They were of killer eyes set on a task that would not be interrupted by anyone or anything.

And pressed against the eldest brother’s temple was his own standard issued glock. His finger was pressed against the trigger.

“Hello, Nines.” Sixty lowered his hands from the door to his sides and cautiously stepped forward. Sixty knew who Nines could be and what his main function was as an android all too well. It was to replaced him and Connor. He was the superior model and it seemed he was living out his duty.

He was usually aloof and caustic and deadpanned but this was a face of a cold hearted killer who knew no fear of the consequences.

Connor opened his mouth to release a breathy gasp of air, hands weakly grasping for the hand that blinded him. The motions were unnatural and twitching. “T-told you to-.”

The gun pressed to the side of his beaten brother was unwavering and true.

He ignored his brother. Careful eyes flicked from Sixty to his brother. “You don’t want to do that.”

Nines remained unwavering. “And why is that number sixty? Shouldn’t you be running?” He ticked his head to the side. “You’re next, after all.”

“Not scared of you.” He took another step forward. Connor tried to sputter something from bloodied lips gain. He gritted his teeth upon his brother.

“Just shut up. Stay still.” He hissed. This moment was too tense and it hung by a single tread waiting to snap.

“You don’t have to be.”

A flick of a humor smile came to the corner of his lips. “Are we cockfighting Nines? How un-very machine like. Almost what deviant Nines would do.”

The LED on his temple flickered.

Ah, there it was. He had to push a little more….“Fight it Nines, I know what it’s like to fight something you can’t see. But fuck, you can feel it.” He started. Another hesitant step. His brother wavered, the gun in hand moving ever so slightly. A gasp from Connor as he felt it fall away.

>>>0v3r1d3 f4i1eD

“You would have killed him by now but you didn’t.”

>>>0v3rid3 fai1ed

“You would have attacked me but you didn’t.”

>>>0v3ride f4iled

“You’re stalling for something and I’ll stall you too.”

>>>0verride////////////

“No matter what.”

The safety suddenly clicked off. Sixty rushed forward hand bare and ready for the forced interface to take his brother over.

The gunshot bit harshly into his audial unit.


	28. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl invites Markus over for dinner. He's not the only one he invited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the lovely prompt list if you are interested or want to see what I have in store for you guys!  
https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does

Characters: Leo, Carl, Markus

Warnings: None

* * *

_ "Hi, Dad. I'm getting out of the hospital tomorrow. They told me you stayed with me while I was asleep. I...I'm really sorry about everything that happened. I'm gonna stop all that shit. It messes me up. It turns me into somebody that I hate. I-I'd like to come by and see you tomorrow, if that's alright with you? I... I just want to let you know, I'm...I'm proud to be your son." _

_One year later_

Things had changed. To Markus it was a slow progression of time and yet it felt like it was gone in the blink of an eye. A whirlwind of meetings with humans and androids, coming to disagreements and agreements alike. Countless nights staying awake with swirling thoughts, preparing speeches that grew lengthier and lengthier with time, the growing threat that he could be killed at any moment if in public was now a paranoia he couldn’t fight off. The android was at his breaking point.

So when, from out of the blue, the man he had once taken care of every single moment of his pre-deviancy life, the human he was proud to call father had called him, the world suddenly came to a halting stop.

He answered hesitantly listening to the raspy voice with interest upon the proposition that he gave to him.

Dinner. He wanted him to come over for dinner. Carl Manfred left the conversation open purposely. Spoke as if they had spoken yesterday and not a year ago when he had asked for his advice during the revolution.

“What time?”

“Saturday, after four, Joey can cook a mean meatloaf.”

Markus smiled upon that. He was glad that his new caretaker was still getting along with the spirited old man.

“I bet he does.”

“So what d’ya say, Markus?”

“Well,” he smiled even more. Hearing his raspy voice felt like a balm over his aching heart, encompassing it with warmth and familiarity he once knew. “I’ll have to clear my scheduled.”

“Tough. See you then.”

The hung up the phone only after his father did.

He had been out of touch with his father. A short voice message here and there telling him how he was on his mind and hoped he was doing well had been said. The human had spirit and wouldn’t be bowing down at life any time soon.

He was too hard headed to give up that easily.

When Markus arrived at 8941 Lafayette Avenue the feelings of bitter-sweetness rose in his chest. The soft glow of the light within the house drew him close to familiar warmth. With each step it felt more and more like he was coming home.

He stepped up to the front door and rose his hand to knock but the security system chimed, welcomed him, and allowed him to enter. A soft chuckle came from his lips as he lowered his hand.

Knowing that Carl didn’t change the setting on the A.I. made that sensation return again. Slowly, he entered the house and the smell of, as promised, meatloaf wafted past. He closed the door gently.

He slid his wool coat off his shoulders, hung it on the coat rack by the door, and made his way towards the dinning room.

“Is that so?”

“She’s real nice. She loves your work too.”

Markus stopped in his steps upon the familiar, additional, voice. His thirium pump froze in his chest and climbed into his throat.

Leo.

Leo was here. Tonight? There had to be some sort of mistake. He thought-.

“She has shitty tastes.”

“She does.” Leo agreed and there was a soft chuckle from the old man. There was a moment of silence before Carl’s voice rose again. This time louder.

“Well, it’s not nice to eavesdrop,” His voice traveled to the hallway and he felt embarrassment for being discovered so cleverly. “Come in.”

Markus hesitantly revealed himself and took a step forward before meeting his sheepish gaze with Carl.

“Even in your old age your hearing is still sharp.” Markus murmured.

“If androids are sneaking into my house, then yes, I do.”

He flicked his gaze to Leo who refused to make eye contact with him. His eyebrows pinched together in confusion before it occurred to him why he was so submissive to his sight.

The leader of all deviants stood before him. For a moment he felt powerful and hungry in all the wrong ways. This human that dared to threaten him so long ago and ruin his life as he knew it. He dared to-

Markus stopped those thought sin their tracks. They were nasty and terrible things. Instead he looked towards the facts. He wouldn’t be here without him as well. Those chain of events. Those choices he made led him to where he was in this moment.

In a way, deep down, perhaps he was grateful for him.

“H-hey, Markus...” He looked up finally and offered a short wave. He also noticed that the motion wasn’t jumpy. It wasn’t hectic or hyper.

As a matter of fact, the son was sitting rather still and silently at the head of the table. He had gained some weight around his face and abdomen but he looked relatively healthier. He wore presentable clothing and the bags under his eyes were less darker. He flicked his gaze back to elderly man and saw his was merely observing as if he were watching a gentle debate.

He wasn’t taking sides, not yet at least. And Leo wasn’t raring to jump down his throat with threats and curses.

He seemed...meek and timid.

“Hello, Leo.” Markus nodded. “You look well.”

“Y-yeah.” A nervous laugh escaped his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, took some time off to uh...get better.”

Markus blinked, ticking his head upward ever so slightly. “I see...”

“Sit down, Markus.” Carl finally spoke and immediately the android obeyed. He took the remaining steps forward and sat across from his father. He offered a polite glace to Leo before taking the cloth napkin and placing it on his lap. He couldn’t ingest human food but having manners was always a must.

Joey came from the adjoining kitchen and present Markus with a glass of thirium. “Hello, Joey, glad to see you.”

“You as well, Markus.” He turned to Leo and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Dinner will be out shortly, just finishing up on the potatoes.”

“Take your time.” Carl nodded patting his hand.

It was silent between the three as the caretaker android slipped back into the kitchen. Carl took a sip of his wine and Leo shifted uncomfortably for the first time since Markus had made his appearance.

Carl was as ease this whole time. “I invited you both for a reason.” He started out. “No mater what, even if you two bleed differently you two will always be brothers. When I’m gone all you will have is each other.”

Leo looked down to the table listening to his father’s words intently while as remained submissive. Markus agreed with his wisdom and truth.

“Both of you are new born people. A lot can happen in a year. It can change someone for the better or for the worse. Both of you have come such a long way. And I’m proud to call each of you my sons.”

Carl smiled to Leo taking his hand in his own. “I am so proud of you for the strength you had to recover.” He reached forward and Markus held his hand not quick enough to fight the automatic urge to disable his artificial skin.   
The elderly man brushed a thumb over his knuckles in assurance that the reaction was quite alright. “And Markus, you have come so far since the day you came to me looking for words of wisdom to make your final choice.”

“Leo,” Carl spoke lightly, his voice cracking ever so slightly. Leo smiled a bit exchanging a glace from his dad to his own hand. “You were always the son I wanted. Always have been. I am sorry If I wasn’t there so long ago and I’m sorry if I treated Markus with favor, because I did.”

“I am growing older now and it may be too late for me to change my ways. But in the light of these days, it seems like we have all turned over a new stone. Changed our outlooks. Looked deep within ourselves.”

Joey came out of the kitchen holding a freshly made meatloaf. He ignored the android and shook both their hands once in insistence. “I think it’s time to learn us all over again. As a family.”

Markus felt the familiar warmth take over his pump once again.

He released both their hands and placed his hands on his lap, a cleansing sigh being taken in deeply. “Now then, let’s dig in?”

Markus chuckled softly. “By all means.” He took a sip of his thirium and set it down gently as Joey served out portions. He eyed Leo carefully, willing to extend the olive branch. “So tell me, Leo. Who’s the girlfriend?”

Leo smiled bashfully accepting it. “Funny story actually...”


	29. Embrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon comes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take this moment to sincerely thank everyone for joining me for my first ever whumptober. It has been such a stressful, joyous, fun, and amazing journey. It had pushed me to my limits and challenged me in ways I’ve never known before. I would like to take this time as well to thank my two dearest friends for helping me inspire and cheer me on. Deviantalice, Thank you for beta reading and allowing me to bounce off ideas to you endlessly, for using your characters and ideas and feeding me plot bunnies. And Kumikoseph, thank you for giving me ideas and prompts accidentally and purposely and for using our characters as well. Without you two I don’t think I would have finished this at all. Thank you so much for being by my side and taking all of my insanity with a grain of salt.

Characters: Simon, Markus, North, Josh

Warnings: Blood, swearing

* * *

A continuation of Abandoned…

Coming back to what was the closest thing to home felt different. By now, a week later they would have forgotten him. He didn’t feel anger. Simon always wanted what was best for the others, even if it hurt him in the end. But he couldn’t shake the guess of how this reunion would feel like.

Would it be of relief and disbelief? Would it be as if they were seeing a ghost, a sign they truly left him to die? Should it be bittersweet and thankful?

These halls damp, musty, and dark were a home to the survivors of the very species Markus was standing up against.

Simon wondered if-his thoughts, wondering just as much as he was, came to a halt.

Motion caught his eyes and his thirium pump almost stalled.

He rounded the corner noting the way Markus himself took a hesitant step back. Was it a step back in disbelief? A step back in fear? A sign of remorse? Or unexpected ghost walking before him?

The android would never know because the silence between them is never broken. Seeing Markus before him made him limp towards him just a step. He hid a cringe as his leg sparked. The journey to stand here aggravated his wound once more.

They stared at one another. The eyes were the window to the soul and forever could Simon stare into them. He’s content to be here. He’s content to stand before his leader, his friend. The one he would give his life for over and over again if he could.

Simon moved to open his mouth when Markus moved a tad bit closer but no words come out. Instead his eyes, tired and sunken look up to him in a pleading manner. The leader understood his wordless request and stepped closer

Only a few steps apart and Simon wanted to give out and fall into his arm. This reunion was not bittersweet. It was not anything he had predicted. It begged for forgiveness. And Simon would always forgive.

He would forgive Markus because in the end, the cause he fought for was so much bigger than he? And that was alright. He was willing to give whatever he had to have his leader succeed. Coming back was…

He wanted to come back and maybe pass on where he felt most comfortable. This was his home.

Markus suddenly took the last remaining steps reaching forward in desperation to bring him close to his body. He clutched him tightly, fingertip digging into fistfuls of his clothing. Numbly, he too returns the embrace craving the touch so terribly, turning his head to the side to rest it upon his shoulder.

Simon’s strength was finally depleted and he closed his eyes, a deep relieved sigh escaping him. And with it his body, too, released the tension he had been experiencing for these long gruesome days.

The hold around him was enough for now. This is where he belonged.

Hope, love, safety, relief.


End file.
